


Bloodstained Hearts

by Drweirdhasthecure, greenwoodisgreat



Series: Love Conquers All [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence, Dale - Freeform, Drama, Erebor, F/M, Giant Spiders, Greenwood, Gundabad, Imladris, Laketown, Laketown citizens, Mirkwood, No Smut or Sex (I'm sorry), Non-Canon moments, Orcs, Ravenhill, Romance, The Arkenstone - Freeform, The White Gems of Lasgalen, Thranduil's elk - Freeform, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 144,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drweirdhasthecure/pseuds/Drweirdhasthecure, https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwoodisgreat/pseuds/greenwoodisgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>400 years after the Gundabad battle, the Woodland Realm is still mourning a Queen. As King Thranduil and his children continue to cope with their loss, a company of thirteen Dwarves arrive in Mirkwood and their quest might just be the key to unlock the King’s beloved from her silence…</p><p>Updates will be irregular until further notice.</p><p>Now with a cast of actors: <br/>http://greenwoodisgreat.tumblr.com/post/143931332618/my-cast-for-my <br/>http://greenwoodisgreat.tumblr.com/post/143931436818/heres-the-other-two</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mending And Visions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back, everyone! :D This is the second instalment of the Love Conquers All trilogy. Same warning of long length, actually it’s longer than Forbidden Love :P Lots of The Hobbit characters are introduced and The Hobbit films (the extended editions :D) are the main timeline for this story. The characters created by the amazing J. R. R. Tolkien belong to him and the movie scenes and characters depicted in this story are the making of the wonderful Peter Jackson. I own nothing other than my original characters and their own storylines. As noted in the tags, there is no smut/sex :( I’m really sorry because I know that many of you out there love reading it but with this story, its plotline isn’t built for sex, it’s very dialogue heavy and story-based but I hope you still like it :) So without further do, let’s begin another journey! Please enjoy! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Elrond heals the King’s burns and Thranduil wakes up back in the palace. The prince and the King have dreams about their deceased Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first seven chapters are set right after the Gundabad battle with time jumps. From Chapter 8 onwards, the story will be in The Hobbit timeline :) Short to start off with, 4,000+ words, but please enjoy and comment.

He screamed. It burned. All he felt was terrible pain. His vision was black. All he wanted was for the pain to stop. He didn’t know where he was or what was going on. Agony flooded through his body, his cells and veins on fire. He screamed. He never stopped screaming. He had never screamed so much in his life. For over 2,000 years, Thranduil had never been in so much torture. _Please, please, make it stop! Please make it stop!_ But it never stopped.

He didn’t know how loud his screams were. _Where is my son? Where is Legolas? Is he OK? Melda and Valpantiel? Tyaeron? Eletha…_ Then, he remembered what happened. She had disappeared in flames. _No! Make me die. Let me join her. Stop the pain and let me join my love. Please._ He begged. He screeched as the anguish got worse. He yelled and shrieked and screamed. He felt sorry if anyone was with him, listening to his high-pitched screams. _Kill me! Let me die!_ But he neither lived nor died. He was on the border of life and death and he didn’t know which path he was going to go on. _Should I let the pain consume me and die? Or should I fight the pain and live?_ He didn’t know the answer. He didn’t want to know the answer. Instead, he continued to scream, the burning sensation blanking his thoughts.

 

**

 

The palace was quiet, so silent that the only sounds were the waterfalls cascading over the rocks and the Elvenking’s screams. Melda stood outside the healing chambers, biting her fingernails, tears streaming down her cheeks as the King’s shrieks got worse. It had only been a week since the Gundabad battle and the King had been unconscious throughout the whole journey back to the palace. Valpantiel had asked Melda to summon Lord Elrond to Greenwood and was now currently trying to heal Thranduil’s horrific burns. As the King’s screams hit her ears, Melda remembered when the army returned to Greenwood.

 

_The battle was over but so many had died. Including their beloved Queen. As the army marched back to Greenwood, Melda didn’t even see a glimpse of Thranduil. He was shrouded by his soldiers, making a tough wall of armour and flesh. Every day, she asked if she could see him but no-one would allow her to. She tried to put up a fight but her sister pulled her away._

_“Not now, Melda.” Valpantiel said._

_It took two weeks to reach the palace and when they did, the King was carried off to the healing chambers immediately. Melda managed to see him for a few seconds but in such a short time, she saw his injuries. The whole left-hand side of his face and neck had been melted away, exposing bone, muscle and sinew. It was the most horrific thing that Melda had ever seen. She rushed after the soldiers as they carried Thranduil. Tyaeron, Valpantiel and Legolas were right on her heels as she ran. The soldiers placed the King on the bed and dispersed. Valpantiel entered the healing chambers but placed her hand on her sister’s chest, stopping her._

_“He needs to be cured. Send word to Lord Elrond. We need him here.” She said. Melda looked over her sister’s shoulder and saw half a dozen healers standing around the King._

_“I need to see him. Please let me see him.” Melda begged._

_“I am sorry, gwanun, but you cannot. His Grace needs immediate medical attention. And he cannot be disturbed. If you want to help, write to Lord Elrond.” Valpantiel stated before closing the door in Melda’s face. The elleth screamed and began banging on the door, repeatedly slamming her hands against the wood._

_“Let me in! Let me in right now!” She wailed desperately. As expected, no-one opened the door but Melda didn’t stop. She screamed and banged and knocked._

_“Please! Please…” She pleaded. Tyaeron and Legolas grabbed her and pulled her away. Then, Melda lost it. She broke down, falling to her knees, weeping, tears pouring down her burning hot cheeks._

_“Oh, Melda…” The Captain whispered, holding his lover close. Legolas embraced the two of them, also crying. The prince was distraught, so upset that he didn’t know what to do. My mother is dead. I saw her die. She’s dead. And now, my father is hurt, very badly. What I have done to deserve this? He thought. His life had been amazing but this made a large hole_ _swell in his heart._

_“I just want him to be OK.” Melda cried, holding onto the ellyn._

_“He will be. Do not worry. The King is strong. He will survive this.” Tyaeron whispered, his breathing soft. For all sakes, Melda and Legolas hoped that the Captain was right._

She waited, crying and anxious. Melda heard the King shriek, screech and scream and it broke her heart. It was like hearing her brother being tortured. _Please be OK, Thranduil. Please._

Inside the healing chambers, Lord Elrond’s hand was pressed firmly against Thranduil’s burnt face and the King was screaming at the contact. Valpantiel stood on the other side of the bed, placing a wet cloth of Thranduil’s forehead, trying to cool him down. Elrond concentrated on his friend’s injuries. He could feel Thranduil’s pain. He could feel his own power trying to heal the burns, muscle tying back together and the bones coming back. The King flopped about on the bed like a fish out of water. Two other healers attempted to hold him down, making it easier for Elrond and Valpantiel to heal him.

“Keep him still!” Lord Elrond ordered, pressing his hand against Thranduil’s burnt face. The healers grabbed the King’s arms and legs, trying to stop his thrashing movements. Valpantiel removed the cloth from the King’s forehead and hunted through the cabinets behind her. She pulled out a syringe with a long needle and looked at Elrond with a raised eyebrow. The Lord of Imladris nodded and Valpantiel stuck the needle into Thranduil’s neck, pushing the syringe down. The King immediately ceased moving and his body went still. Elrond now found it easier to heal Thranduil but it would still take over a month before his horrible burns would be cured. The healers began to cover the King’s face with strong bandages, disguising his deranged skin. Valpantiel walked over to the door and opened it. She saw her sister standing right outside, her violet eyes full of worry and her cheeks were stained with tears.

“How is he?” Melda asked.

“He is unconscious for now. He will wake up in a few days.” Valpantiel said.

“Unconscious?! What did you give him?” Melda gasped.

“A powerful sedative. Its liquid is extracted from Athelas. He will be fine.”

“Can I come in?” Melda asked.

“Of course.” Valpantiel answered, allowing her sister to enter the healing chambers. Melda got a shock when she saw her King on the bed. She knew that he wasn’t dead but he sure looked like it. His skin was a lifeless white and his right eye was closed. The whole left-hand side of his face had been bandaged and his hair hung in pale tangles around his shoulders. His armour and clothes had been stripped off and he was clothed in grey leggings and a loose white tunic. Lord Elrond was dabbing a wet rag on Thranduil’s forehead, trying to cool him down. He turned around to see Melda standing next to Valpantiel, her face full of shock and sadness.

“He will live, my Lady. I suggest you mourn for your other royal.” Elrond said. Then it dawned on Melda that Eletha was dead. Taken so quickly in the blink of an eye. She would never hear her voice again, laugh with her, see her beautiful face again. Then, Melda fell to her knees and sobbed.

“Why? Why was she taken from us?” She cried as Valpantiel knelt down next to her sister and pulled her to her chest.

“The Gods can be cruel, _gwanun_.” Valpantiel whispered.

“If you say the King will survive his injuries, do you think he will survive his heartbreak?” Melda sobbed, rubbing away her tears. The thought frightened every Elf in the room. The Eldar were a powerful race. There were only two ways that they could die: slain in battle or of a broken heart. Now that Eletha was gone, everyone worried for Thranduil. _Will he die of a broken heart when he wakes up? Will he die just as he comes back to life?_ Valpantiel asked herself. _No! We just lost the Queen! We cannot lose the King! Not now. Not ever._

“I sure hope so, sister. But we will just have to wait until he wakes up.” Valpantiel said, holding her sister close as Lord Elrond looked down at the King of Greenwood. He was now even more worried for him. Thranduil wasn’t just a King. He was a friend of Lord Elrond’s. They had known each other for centuries. _No, Thranduil will not die. He has beat death before. He can do it again._ Elrond thought as he prayed for the King’s recovery.

 

**

 

The prince wandered through the halls, his body cold and limp. He felt dead. His mother was gone. Snatched away in the blink of an eye. Legolas wished that she could have stopped her from going. _If I had stopped her, she wouldn’t be dead. This never would have happened._ He said to himself. The prince blamed himself and he knew that his aunts and friends would tell him otherwise but he still felt terrible. _I could have stopped her. I did not try hard enough. Why didn’t I try harder?_ Legolas cursed himself. He would never see her smile again, feel her kisses, hear her voice again. She was dead and he could not bring her back to life. The prince wished that there was some type of potion or healing remedy that would bring his mother back from the grave. _But even if there was, there’s no body to bring back. She was engulfed by dragonflame, burnt into nothing. There is no grave. No body. Absolutely nothing._ Legolas felt lost. His mother was dead. His father was on the brink of death. He could only think of one person to go and visit in this tough time.

Legolas went to his chambers and found his little sister lying on the bed, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. He couldn’t see her face but he knew that she was crying. He could hear her. Legolas remembered when he told Calarel the night before that their mother was gone. The princess had frozen and for a moment, Legolas thought that she was going to fall unconscious. Instead, she burst into tears, flinging her arms around Legolas and burying her face in his pale blonde hair. Calarel was so young. Too young to lose a parent. When Legolas informed her that their father was very badly injured, Calarel had sobbed even more. It was the only thing that she could do. She was young and did not know any better. Crying was her reaction. What else would you do if you lose a parent? Calarel had been quiet the entire night apart from her weeping. She had stayed with Legolas and planned to every night until she felt better. But that would be a very long time.

The prince closed the door behind him and went over to Calarel. He sat down on the bed next to her and took hold of her small body in his arms, pulling her to his chest. She cried into his clothes, letting go of the pillow and wrapped her arms around her brother’s back. She wanted her mother. That was her only wish but her wish would never come true. Calarel tried to remember her warm embraces, her sweet kisses, her kind voice but she couldn’t. Eletha was already lost to her. She would never see her again and it made her heart fall into a deep dark abyss that Calarel was afraid of never getting out from. Her brother’s arms made her feel safe but they didn’t provide the same warmth that her mother’s did. Tears flowed from her eyes as Legolas closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of his sister’s head.

“Oh, Cally…” He whispered.

“Leggy…is _Adar_ dead?” Calarel mumbled against Legolas’s chest.

“No, he is not, _tithen pen_. And he will not die. He is going to live.” The prince answered, resting his cheek against her head. _Our mother is dead. Our father will not go down the same path. I will make sure of it._ Legolas vowed to himself.

That night, Legolas fell asleep with Calarel in his arms. He dreamt that he was in a meadow in the forest. The sunlight was warm and the grass was aglow in a luscious green hue. He was alone, sitting on the grass, his hair loose around his shoulders. When all was quiet, he heard a gentle voice.

“ _Ion-nin_.”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to see his mother standing at the edge of the meadow. She was wearing a sleeveless red gown and her chocolate brown hair was loose, hanging just past her waist. She looked the exact same as he remembered her. Just as stunning and beautiful. But she couldn’t be here. She was dead.

“ _Naneth_.” Legolas whispered in shock, standing up. Queen Eletha approached her son, the train of her dress trailing out behind her on the grass.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I came to see you. I _needed_ to see you.”

Her voice was so kind, so gentle, so sweet. Legolas missed hearing her voice. It tinkled like a bell, like a glorious angel from the Valar. He wondered if she had come from the Valar. The sun made her hair shine with a soft golden glow and her skin was pale and perfect.

“I miss you, _Naneth_.” Legolas murmured. Eletha reached out her hands and took hold of her son’s. Legolas missed her soft touch, her fingers lacing with his.

“I miss you too. But you must not dwell on the past. You have a sister to look after. You have a father to take care of.” She said gently.

“I begged for you not to come to Gundabad. We all pleaded and begged. But you did not listen. And now you are gone. Why did you come?”

“I had to, Legolas. I could not watch you, your father and my friends ride off into battle. I just couldn’t. I would be in a living hell, wondering if you were ever going to come home. I did not want to hear news of your death or your father’s death or any of my loved one’s deaths. I had to go.”

“But you died.”

“Do not let my death be in vain, _ion-nin_. My wish is for you to look after your sister and father. Take care of them for me.” Eletha whispered.

“I will, _Naneth_. I just wish that you were still here.” Legolas mumbled, looking at the ground. He felt his mother place her hand on his cheek. He raised her eyes to his, feeling tears threatening to flow down his cheeks.

“What is done is done. I may be gone physically but I will live on in your heart. As I said to Calarel before we left for Gundabad, just look into your heart and you will find me. I will always be with you. Always.” The Queen murmured, cupping her son’s face. Legolas closed his eyes and felt his free finally fall free. To see her was even more emotional for him. to know that she was dead but having the privilege of seeing her in a dream was probably the best and only chance of ever seeing her. He felt his mother press her lips to his forehead.

“I love you, _ion-nin_.” She whispered.

“I love you too, _Naneth_.” Legolas said. And just like that, she was gone as quickly as she appeared.

The prince woke up, his eyes snapping open. It was dark outside so he knew that it was either the middle of the night or in the early hours of the morning. His sister remained still and fast asleep in his arms, her hair tickling his chin. His pillow felt wet and Legolas realised that he had been crying in his sleep. He tried to remember the feel of her lips on his forehead, her gentle hands on his face, her sweet voice whispering his name. Legolas remembered her wish. _I must look after Cally and Adar. And I will, Naneth. I promise._ He thought, speaking to the heavens above. He knew that his mother was up here, watching over them. He knew that his mother had found a good place in the Valar and that he would join her one day.

 

**

 

The pain had subsided greatly but he still remembered the feel of it. Thranduil was alone in his head. He remembered the battle. He remembered the dragons. He remembered the Orcs. He remembered everything. His wife was gone. His beloved. His one true love. He felt lost, just like his son. The King wanted her back. And if he was not allowed to have her back, he would gladly join her in the Valar. _What about my children? I cannot leave them._ He told himself.

Thranduil then found himself in the forest. He recognised the area as the place where he had first shown Eletha to shoot an arrow. The sunlight streamed through the high branches of the trees, lighting up the ground and shrubbery. Thranduil turned on the spot and found the tree where her arrow once was. He walked up to it and placed his fingers on the thick trunk of the pale oak. His sharp eyes caught the small indentation mark from the point of her arrow. That made him smile.

“Thranduil.”

He turned at the sound of the voice. He knew the elleth to which the voice belonged to. It was the voice that he had fallen in love with the moment he heard it. He saw her standing five metres away from him, looking just as beautiful as he had remembered. His beloved Queen was clothed in her wedding dress, the red and gold embroidery sparkling against the silver fabric. The emerald and silver circlet that he had given her so long ago sat on her head and her hair was pulled back in a Silvan style, strands loose in front of her pointy ears. Her long locks poured down her back to just past her waist, its colour a delectable chocolate. Thranduil felt his lips smile when he saw her. His heart immediately rose at the sight of her but he knew that it wasn’t really her. This was a dream. He knew that she was gone. But that didn’t stop him from believing that it was her.

“Eletha…” He choked out. Thranduil did not recognise his own voice. It was not demanding or powerful. It was full of sorrow and grief and sadness. He yearned for her but he knew that he would never feel her touch again. All that was gone forever. The King felt tears bloom in his eyes and flow freely down his cheeks. His vision became blurry but he could see Eletha look at him mournfully.

“ _Melamin_ , why do you weep?”

He blinked at her through his tears, trying to get a clear vision of her.

“I weep because you are gone. I miss you. I want you back.” Thranduil said. Eletha walked up to him and placed her hand on his face. He leaned into her palm, closing his eyes as he savoured her warm touch. But he knew it was not real. It was a dream.

“I am not truly gone, _melamin_. I will always be with you. In here.” She said, her hand falling from his cheek and resting over his heart. Thranduil looked deep into her emerald green eyes and placed his hand over hers, his thumb running over her smooth pale skin.

“Why did you come to Gundabad? You never should have. By doing that, you have left me alone.”

“You are not alone, Thranduil. You have Melda and Valpantiel. You have Tyaeron and Tauriel. And most importantly, you have our two beautiful children.” Eletha smiled up at him but he did not smile back. His body was devoid of all of the happiness that he had once felt. Even though his wife stood right in front of him, he knew that it wasn’t actually her. It was a dream and she was an angel that had come down from the Valar to speak to him.

“I want to join you in the Valar. Please let me join you.” Thranduil pleaded, placing his free hand on her face. Eletha blinked up at him, her eyes shining.

“We do not always get what we want, _melamin_. That is not the way the world works. And you cannot leave our children. They need their father.”

“But I need you.”

“You need them, Thranduil. You will all help each other through this troubled time. You cannot leave them. You have a realm to rule. You have to move on with your life.”

“You cannot expect me to just push the past behind me. I cannot live without you. If I go back, I will die anyway.” Thranduil said.

“Then you must fight it, _melamin_. If you will not do it for me, do it for Legolas and Calarel. If you wish to not let my death be in vain, then do me this one thing. Do not die. Look after our children. Protect the Woodland Realm like you have always done. I know you can do it.” Eletha pleaded. Thranduil loved hearing her voice. He knew that he would never hear it for real again. That aspect for her had disappeared for good. He wanted to go to the Valar and join her. But then he remembered his son and daughter. He loved them and he knew that he could not leave him. It would be the worst time to leave them. The King wished to have his Queen by his side to help him rule but he had ruled over Greenwood for many centuries before he had met Eletha. He knew that he could do it but it was a question if he really wanted to. But it was not about what he wanted. It was about what the realm needed at the moment. One ruler was already dead. The second could not die. Thranduil did not want Legolas to take the throne. He was still so young. He was not even 200 years old yet. And Calarel. She was still a baby in Elven standards. Not even 50 years old. Thranduil pictured his children crying over his dead body. _No! I cannot leave them. I must honour Eletha’s last wish._ He said to himself.

Thranduil looked down at his wife with bright and defeated eyes. He could see the anxiety in her face. The way her eyes were pleading for him to stay alive and look after his children and realm.

“I will honour your last wish, _rhîs-nin_. I will take care of our children and look after our realm. I promise you. I will not let you down.” The King finally said.

“I know you will not let me down. You are a wonderful ruler and a wonderful father. You will continue to be both things. Now, I must go.”

“No! Please do not go yet.” Thranduil begged.

“I must. But you will see me again one day. I know it.” Eletha smiled up at him. She raised her hands and placed them on either side of his face. She craned her neck up and her lips met his in a soft kiss. Thranduil closed his eyes and locked his arms around her waist, pulling her up against his body. He needed to feel her one last time. Her warm breath entered his mouth and he savoured it. The kiss ended far too quickly for the King’s liking but he didn’t complain.

“ _Namaarie_ , _melamin_.” She whispered.

“ _Namaarie_ , Eletha. _Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'_.” Thranduil murmured. Then, her hands fell away from his face and when he opened his eyes, she was gone.

 

The King opened his eyes and stared around. He did not know where he was. That was until he saw a familiar face. Lord Elrond was staring at him worriedly but a look of relief washed over his face when he saw that the King was finally awake.

“Thranduil, my old friend, thank the Gods you are awake! We have all been very worried.” The Lord of Imladris said. Thranduil then realised that he could only see out of one eye. He raised his left hand and touched his face to discover that his skin was covered in thick bandages.

“You will heal, Your Grace. Magic will conceal your burns.” Lord Elrond informed the weak Elvenking. Thranduil look at Elrond with his own good eye.

“How long has it been?” He asked feebly.

“You have been here for a week, my lord, but have been unconscious for about three weeks.”

“Where are my children?”

“I shall go and find them, my lord, and inform them of your state.” Lord Elrond bowed his head and rushed out of the healing chambers as Valpantiel and Lucile walked in to monitor the now-awake King.

The Lord of Imladris had never run so fast in his long life. He went to Legolas’s chambers and knocked on the door.

“Legolas? Are you in there?”

“Come in.” Elrond heard the prince’s voice say. He opened the door and walked into the chambers. He saw Prince Legolas sitting on the bed with Princess Calarel in front of him, his fingers weaving intricate braids in her chocolate brown hair.

“Is something wrong, Lord Elrond?” Legolas asked, securing his sister’s last braid with a small Elven hair clasp. Elrond looked at the prince and princess with dark sparkling eyes, his face pale and his dark hair falling over his lithe shoulders perfectly.

“Prince Legolas, your father is awake.”

 

Elvish Translations

  * gwanun – sister

  * Adar – Father

  * tithen pen – little one

  * Ion-nin – my son

  * Naneth – Mother

  * Melamin – My love

  * rhîs-nin – my Queen

  * Namaarie – Farewell

  * Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au' – My heart shall weep until it sees thee again




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to this sequel! It was hard to get back into the right mind-set for this story but I’m going to try my best :) This chapter was inspired by ‘Breath Of Life’ by Florence And The Machine :) See you next Friday for the second chapter!


	2. The King Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A funeral is held for the Queen and Thranduil blames himself for his wife’s death. All those around him attempt to console their King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday the 13th, everyone! :D This update’s longer, almost 6,500 words and it’s been a month since the Gundabad battle.

The King of the Woodland Realm stood in front of the full-length mirror in his chambers. He concentrated on his face, letting his burns cover his skin. Thranduil knew that he looked terrifying and he would probably scare his children. That was why he had not shown anyone his burns apart from Lord Elrond, Lady Valpantiel and Lady Lucile. Elrond had taught him a magical spell to help him conceal his horrific injuries before he had left for Rivendell. Thranduil closed his eyes for a few seconds and concentrated again, his lips pressed together. When he opened his eyes, he saw that his burns were still there.

Full of rage and fury, Thranduil punched the mirror and the top-half cracked violently. His reflection was even more terrifying from the sharp cracks in the glass. So he tried again. He tried another three times before the spell worked. _It will take practice, my friend, but it will work._ Thranduil remembered what Lord Elrond had told him. He looked into the cracked mirror and watched as his burns slowly began to recede. Perfect pale skin began to cover the muscle, bone and sinew until it was whole again. Thranduil blinked at his many reflections, the cracked mirror giving the illusion that he had many eyes. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in.”

Thranduil heard the door opened and saw Maeklin in the mirror. He could see the look of grief and shock on the steward’s face in the cracked mirror but Maeklin did not say anything.

“Good morning, Maeklin.”

“Good morning, Your Grace. The funeral is due to start in an hour. I must get you ready.” The steward said with sadness. Thranduil brought himself back to the present and realised what today was.

Today was the funeral of Queen Eletha of the Woodland Realm, wife to King Thranduil Oropherion and mother to Prince Legolas and Princess Calarel. Even though there was no body to bury, she would still have a grave in the royal cemetery built in her honour. It was Legolas’s suggestion to have an official memorial service for Eletha and he had convinced Thranduil that it was the best thing that they could do to venerate her memory. Thranduil sighed and turned around to face Maeklin.

“An hour?”

Maeklin nodded. The King pressed his lips together and walked over to his steward, allowing him to decide what outfit he should wear. After three quarters of an hour, Thranduil was dressed in a high-necked black tunic that hung to his knees, black leggings and black boots. A dark navy blue coat made of pure velvet rested on his broad shoulders and his spiky orange brooch sat at the collar of his tunic. His long pale blonde hair was left loose, glowing against the dark colours of his attire. To finish off his look, he slid his rings on his fingers; two on each hand as Maeklin placed the pointed branch crown on his head. When Thranduil looked into the mirror, he saw an ellon dressed as a King staring back at him. But he did not feel like a King. He felt lost, vulnerable, full of grief. But he knew that he had to be strong on this day. Thranduil would not allow his people to see him so weak and vulnerable. Kings were not that. They were formidable and powerful and strong. And that is what Thranduil needed to be. He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath.

“ _Amin hiraetha_ , Your Grace, for your loss.” Maeklin said from behind him. Thranduil turned around and looked at his steward with soft blue eyes.

“ _Diola lle_ , Maeklin.”

“We must go now, Your Grace. The funeral procession will start in the main hall. It will go through the palace and out into the cemetery where the speeches will be spoken.”

Thranduil resisted the urge to say “I know” but he did not want to make anybody feel even sadder than they already were. But he knew what a funeral procession was like. He had been a part of two during his lifetime. One for his father and the other one for his mother. And on both occasions, Thranduil had had his heart ripped out. And he was sure that this one would be even worse.

Maeklin escorted the King out of his chambers, surrounded by four royal guards. After such a long time being King, Thranduil’s coat had never felt so heavy on his shoulders. But it was more than just his coat that was heavy. It was the burden of speaking at the funeral. How he was going to get through it, he did not know. He would simply have to do his best.

Thranduil met his son and daughter outside the main hall. Prince Legolas was dressed in a dark green, almost black, tunic, black leggings and black boots. The top-half of his hair was done back in a single braid and a simple silver circlet adorned his head. Princess Calarel was clothed in a black mourning dress that fell down her small body to her ankles. Black sandals hugged her feet and a glowing silver circlet embellished her forehead. Her hair was loose, hanging to her waist, apart from two small twists that were joined together at the back of her head with a silver Elven hair clasp. Both royal children were wearing solemn expressions and the princess looked like she was about to break down in a flood of tears.

“ _Ion-nin_. _Iell-nin_.”

“ _Adar_.” Legolas bowed his head and Calarel curtsied. The royal guards stationed themselves in front of the hall as Thranduil placed his left hand on his son’s shoulder and took hold of his daughter’s hand with his right one.

“We all must be strong today. That is what your mother would have wanted. For all of us to be strong. To walk through life with our heads held high.” He stated, his eyes darting from the prince to the princess. Both of them nodded at their father and blinked away tears. Thranduil’s hands fell away from his children and he turned their back on them ready to enter the hall with Legolas and Calarel walking behind him. The King breathed deep and strode forward into the hall.

The Elves of the Court stood in rows on both sides of the hall, leaving a wide path in the middle for the royals to walk through. At the end of the hall was an empty coffin made from polished brown wood which replaced the royal table. Engravings of long vines were carved into it and a large wreath of white and red roses were laid on top of the coffin. Her body may not be in it but Thranduil knew that her spirit was. As the King and his children walked through the middle of hall, Thranduil spotted Melda and Valpantiel standing closest to the guards that surrounded Eletha’s coffin. Both ellith were wearing long dark gowns; Melda’s was a pure black and Valpantiel’s was a deep dark purple. Their hands were linked and their shining eyes were on the King and his children. Tauriel was also there, her lithe body clothed in a black dress that fell to her feet, contrasting with her bright red hair. Thranduil stopped at the beginning of the small steps and saw that Captain Tyaeron standing on the left of the coffin, dressed in his Guard clothes with a black silk tied over his left shoulder as a symbol of mourning. His sword hanging from his left hip and his face was full of sorrow. Every Guard member was wearing a black silk sash in remembrance of the dead Queen. Thranduil remembered when the hall used to be filled with music and laughter. Now it was quiet and a grieving atmosphere hung over every Elf in the hall.

The King walked up the steps to his dead wife’s coffin and placed his hand on it. He closed his eyes and pictured her beautiful face. Legolas and Calarel followed their father and stood on either side of him. They both put their hands on the coffin as well, reminiscing over the beloved Queen of Greenwood. Then it was time. The funeral procession began.

 

**

 

Six members of the Woodland Guard heaved the coffin onto their shoulders with eight guards in front. They began walking and the Elves carrying the coffin followed. The King and his children came next. Then Tyaeron. Then Melda and Valpantiel. Then the rest of the Court. It was a long slow walk that only held sadness and anguish. The crown felt heavy on his head and the branches itched against his cheeks. He kept his eyes to the back of the coffin. In a way, Thranduil was pleased that her body was not inside. He would have felt even more sorrowful if she was. He probably would not have even left his chambers that morning. He would not have the heart to. Prince Legolas held his sister’s hand and followed his father, his long hair streaming down his back. He didn’t have to see his father’s face to know how he was feeling. The King’s body was slouched, his head bent a little lower than usual. Just from the pace of his walk, Legolas knew that his father was already suffering. But he did not want to lose him. He had already lost his mother. He could not lose his father too. Princess Calarel was in a state of pure grief and she was still in shock. Because she was so young, she did not fully understand the concept of death. She thought that her parents were invincible but that was far from the truth. Her father had been severely injured and his heart was still wounded. Calarel knew that Elves could die of a broken heart but she never thought that either of her parents would go through something like that. But her father was. Calarel saw how much he loved her mother. She saw it every day. A love like that did not come along very often. It was a pure and true love. A love that said ‘I am here for you and I do not expect anything in return’. That is how the King and Queen loved each other. But the princess would never see that again. She would never see her father gaze at her mother in such a loving way. _How long will it be until I see him laugh? When will he smile again?_ She asked herself. But she could not smile or laugh herself. No-one could.

The funeral procession went through the palace, past cascading waterfalls and over rushing rivers, through arched walkways and past wide corridors. The only sounds were the rushing water, the quiet steps of the Elves and the rustle of fabric on the ground. They made it outside and turned around the corner. About 100 metres away from the front gate was the royal cemetery. There were only two graves there. One for the late King Oropher and one for the late Queen Lyraesel. There was a brandnew headstone next to Queen Lyraesel’s that bore Eletha’s name. The headstone said:

 

_ELETHA_

_The beloved Queen of His Grace, Thranduil Oropherion_

_Mother to Prince Legolas Thranduillion and Princess Calarel Thranduiliel_

_May she live on in our hearts forever_

The Elves of the Court stood along the walls of the entire cemetery, remaining silent. There was a grave that had already been dug the night before, ready for the coffin to be placed in. Thranduil positioned him at the end of the grave with his children standing beside him. Everyone watched as four of the Woodland Guard hopped into the grave and the other four lowered the coffin down to them. Princess Calarel felt tears blossom in her eyes and being so young, she let them pour down her pink cheeks. Legolas was too upset to cry. He was in shock and the only emotion that was flowing through his body was misery. He watched as the members of the Guard lowered the coffin into the grave, to be buried forever and never seen again. Thranduil stood as still as a statue, his piercing eyes fixed on the coffin. It was lowered six feet into the ground gently by the members of the Woodland Guard, the white and red roses disappearing into the earth. When the coffin was placed inside the grave, the four members of the Guard got out and all eight of them began to fix the grave up with unturned earth. King Thranduil and his children watched as the Queen’s coffin disappeared under brown dirt, the roses tarnished with speckles of earth. The King felt someone’s hand touch his fingers. He looked down to see that his daughter was staring up at him with emerald green eyes, so much like her mother’s. They were shining with tears and her nose was runny. Thranduil wrapped his long fingers around her small hand and squeezed it tightly. They both returned their gazes to the grave that was now half full with dirt. Legolas’s shoulder brushed his father’s arm as his throat clogged up, unable to even choke out a sob.

When the grave was full of earth, it was time for the eulogies. There was a small raised platform next to the grave where the speakers would talk. There were only three eulogies. One spoken by Melda and Valpantiel, another spoken by Legolas and Calarel and finally, one by Thranduil by himself. The King watched as the two golden-haired sisters stepped up onto the platform, their arms linked and their shining eyes on the grave.

“We both met Queen Eletha nearly 150 years ago, in the days before she was Queen. Both my sister and I fell in love with her the moment we said hello to her. She was kind and sweet but fierce and strong.” Melda said proudly.

“She was interested in many areas of Elven healing. I had the privilege of teaching her to cure and mend many wounds. She was very experienced in that area and I know that she could heal any person if she put her mind to it.” Valpantiel choked out, her golden hair pouring over her shoulders.

“Queen Eletha was also experienced in combat. She was a professional with a bow and arrow, daggers and sword-fighting. She was a strong believer in the ellith fighting alongside the ellyn. She was a wonderful elleth and the perfect Queen that Greenwood could ever have asked for.” Melda stated strongly but everyone could see that her voice was getting a little teary.

“She brought life to everyone, including our King. She gave the realm two beautiful heirs that embody so much of her. Queen Eletha will live on in our hearts for the rest of our lives. We all know that she has a special place in the Valar and she is probably looking down on us right now. So, _namaarie_ , my Queen. We will miss you.” Valpantiel cried and tears finally broke free, pouring down the golden-haired ellith cheeks. Both sisters looked at Thranduil to see that the corners of his mouth had tugged up in a minor smile. They bowed their heads and walked down from the platform. They each held a red rose with a long stem in their hands and they laid it on top of the grave, whispering a traditional in Elvish. Valpantiel rubbed her nose with the back of her hand as Melda wiped tears away from her cheeks. The ellith stepped away and looked down at Eletha’s grave.

Legolas walked behind his father and took hold of his sister’s hand. Calarel looked up at her brother and her lips trembled. The prince looked at his father who nodded at him. Legolas nodded back and walked up to the raised platform with his sister. Legolas took a deep breath and began to speak.

“My mother was the best mother to be born on Arda. She was loving and caring and endeavoured to do her absolute best in every aspect of life. My mother was a strong elleth. She had a heart made of pure gold that was worth more than life itself. She loved me and my sister. She loved her people. She always stayed true to herself and her Silvan heritage. My mother was not only a wonderful elleth. She was also a wonderful Queen. She was the perfect Queen to our King. She loved my father every second of every day. I saw it in her eyes all the time. She loved all of us so fiercely that she decided to put her life on the line and ride with the army to Mount Gundabad. The Queen did not have to. But she wanted to. She told me that she _needed_ to.”

Thranduil stared up at his son in admiration. To hear him speak so confidently was so assertive. He was proud of him to get up there on the platform and speak about his dead mother who he loved very much. Calarel had her head bowed so deeply that her hair was falling over her face, shielding the many tears that were streaming down her cheeks. The King saw that her hand was still locked in Legolas’s as the prince stared at his mother’s grave.

“I loved my mother like any son would love the person that gave birth to them. She was driven, strong and poised. And I will miss her very much. Now my sister will talk briefly.” Legolas finished and squeezed his sister’s small hand. She looked up at him, her cheeks stained with tear streaks. He gave her a reassuring smile and she faced the crowd.

“I did not know my mother for as long as my brother did but that did not make me love her any less than he did. My mother was my pride and joy ever since I was born. She has been the best mother that any child could ask for. I know that she is in my heart and she will watch over me from above. I love you, _Naneth_ , and I will miss you forever.” Calarel said and then the tears broke free. She buried her face in her brother’s tunic and sobbed pugnaciously. Legolas wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they both walked down from the platform, each laying a red rose on top of their mother’s grave. Then it was time for Thranduil to give his eulogy. He did not feel ready even though he had a speech prepared. He managed to tell his legs to carry him up to the raised platform.

Thranduil’s heart felt heavy inside his heart. Its beat, which used to thump and pound fast, was slow and weak. And nothing would help him mend it. But he was determined to fight it. He had a reason to live. He had more than one. He had his realm and people to look after. He had his children to care for. The King’s gaze went to the grave before him, decorated with four bright red roses. He remembered when he first gave Eletha a rose in the forest many decades ago. He remembered the look of disbelief and happiness on her face when she took it from him. Thranduil would never see that look on her face again. He would never see her face again. She was gone. And there was nothing that he could do to bring her back. The King took a deep breath, trying to relax his weak heart. His eyes went to the people that stood in the cemetery. Lord and ladies he knew that loved the Queen. He saw Melda and Valpantiel standing together, their arms still linked. Tyaeron stood beside Melda, his arm around his beloved’s shoulders. His children looked up at him, a pair of ice-blue eyes just like his own and a pair of emerald green eyes just like Eletha’s. It was from seeing the looks on their faces that he found the courage to open his mouth and speak.

“I want to thank everybody who came here today to farewell our beloved Queen. It is a sad time for all of us. It is a sad time for our race. The Eldar has lost an angel on this Middle-Earth. The Lonely Mountain has lost a bright shimmering jewel and the sky has lost its purest star. I met my beloved 154 years ago right here in this palace. She was more than beautiful. She was stunning in every sense of the world. She was glorious both inside and out.”

The King remembered exactly how glorious his wife had been. She had sparkled like a star in both her appearance and her personality. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, picturing her beautiful face. Legolas thought that his father did not have the will to speak any further. He was about to walk up to him just as he began to speak again.

“I did not care that she was a Silvan Elf. I did not care that she was of a lower class than me. I only cared about how much I loved her. My love for her grew every day and I could feel my heart rise every time I laid eyes on her. My wife gave me two beautiful children who I vow to protect with my life and soul. I know that it was her dying wish for me to protect our children.”

Melda and Valpantiel looked at the King with eyes that were glittering with tears. They witnessed the love that he had borne for Eletha. The loving looks that he gave her. The soft kisses that he planted on her lips. He loved her very deeply. He gave her wonderful gifts and worried over constantly. He was a wonderful husband to her and took everything that she had said into account. But the King would never love like that again. The dragons at Gundabad took that away from him.

“But she gave me the greatest treasure of all. And that was unconditional love. She taught me how to love fully and compassionately. She taught me to look at life in a different way. Her untimely death has shown me that even though we Eldar are immortal, we can easily perish in the blink of an eye.”

Thranduil looked down at the grave. Her spirit lay buried in the earth but her soul lived on in the hearts of the people of the Woodland Realm. The King wanted nothing more than to take his crown off and return to his chambers and weep for eternity. But he couldn’t. He still had a eulogy to finish.

“My wife was the light of my life. She was my sun, my moon and my stars. She was always there for me. Through the ups and downs of the last 154 years. But that time is nothing to us Eldar. I feel that she was taken from us, from me, far too early. She should have lived for many more centuries. But that never happened. It will never happen. So, now, today, I bid farewell to my beloved Queen. I will miss you but I know that I will see you again.”

As the King said the last time of his eulogy, he felt a single tear run down his pale cheek. He bowed his head and stepped down from the platform. He went to stand at the end of the grave, a red rose in his ring-adorned hands.

“ _Namaarie_ , _melamin_. _Quel kaima_ , Eletha, until I see you in the next life.” Thranduil whispered as another tear flowed from his eye.

 

**

 

The funeral finally finished at dusk, just as the sun was a rim of gold and orange on the horizon. Immediately after the funeral, Thranduil returned to his chambers, wanting to be alone. He took off his crown and threw his navy blue coat on the bed. It had been the worst day of his life. He felt terrible. He felt weak. He felt alone.

It was all his fault. He never should have let her come. _Why did I allow her to come? I was a fool._ He thought. Now she was gone. Gone forever. His whole body was broken with grief. His heart had shattered into a million pieces and his soul had been torn apart. No-one could cure him of his sorrow. It was now there for all eternity. He was alone, drowning in remorse. He wanted to be alone because the people who surrounded him revoked memories of her. He couldn’t stand it. Every time he saw Legolas, he thought of her. Every time he saw Calarel, he thought of her. Every time he saw Melda, Valpantiel, Tyaeron, Tanina, everyone associated with her life, he always thought of her. A day didn’t go by that Thranduil didn’t mourn his wife.

“I am a fool.” He murmured.

The King got up from the floor and walked over to his desk. Suddenly, he was overcome by rage. With one swipe of his arm, he cleared the desk of ink, parchment, quills and books. He screamed loudly, not caring about anything. Thranduil didn’t care that the left sleeve of his robe was splattered with black ink. He didn’t care about the shattered glass on the floor. He rushed over his full-length mirror, staring at his cracked reflection. He yelled and screamed as he placed his fist on the mirror, the glass cracking further. He stepped to the side and overwhelmed with fury, he grabbed the mirror with both hands, pushing it towards the floor with a scream. The mirror shattered, shards of glass scattering across the stone floor. Thranduil fell to his knees, his hands trembling. He wished that he had stopped her. He blamed himself. _I should have stopped her._ He cursed himself, his hands pulling at his hair. The King went over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He extracted a small bottle of wine and a gold goblet. He poured the alcohol into the goblet and drunk deep. The liquid soothed it but it would never undo the damage to his heart. He wanted to be consoled properly. He needed the people that he loved. He needed his family. Thranduil opened the door of his chambers and turned to one of the guards.

“Send for my children.” He ordered. The guard nodded and rushed off as Thranduil closed the door. He walked over to the chest by the bed and grabbed the glass bottle of wine on the top. He poured the red liquor into a goblet and took a long sip, letting the alcohol rush through his body.

After ten minutes, the door opened and his son and daughter entered. Legolas had changed into his normal Guard attire, his pale blonde hair braided and lying across his shoulders. By his side, holding his hand, was Calarel. She still had the appearance of a 10-year-old human child. Her small body was now clothed in a fuchsia pink dress and her chocolate-brown hair hung to her waist, her bright green eyes sparkled just like her late mother’s.

“ _Adar_ , you wanted to see us.” Legolas said, his voice soft.

“I always want to see you.” The King responded, draining his goblet of wine. He placed the goblet on the chest of drawers and smiled at his daughter.

“Come here, _tithen pen_.”

Calarel let go of her brother’s hand and ran over to her father. She leapt into his strong arms, hugging him close. Thranduil wrapped his arms around his daughter, pressing her against his body. He loved Calarel beyond belief. She embodied so much of her mother. Her beauty, her fair skin, her chocolate-brown hair, her green eyes, her sweet yet fierce personality, everything.

Legolas spotted the mess on the floor and frowned.

“What happened here, _Adar_?” He asked, walked over to the mess and picked up a small shard of glass. Thranduil placed Calarel back down on her feet and held her small hand.

“You already know the answer to that, Legolas.”

The prince looked at his father, placing the shard of glass on the desk.

“You have to stop blaming yourself, _Adar_. Do not torture yourself.”

“I should have stopped her from going, Legolas. I never should have let her come with us. I was an idiot to let her come. I _am_ an idiot.” Thranduil said.

“You are not an idiot, _Adar_. You never will be.” Calarel stared up at her father, her eyes sparkling beautifully. Thranduil stared at his daughter, his pupils dilated, encompassing his blue irises. Legolas stepped up to his father and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“I have to take care of you, _Adar_.” Legolas said. The King’s gaze went to his son, his mouth contorted in shock.

“You are not supposed to take care of me! It works the other way around, Legolas! I am the father and you are the son. The father takes care of the son!” Thranduil cried, his eyes glowing like blue crystals.

“And what is silent in the father speaks in the son. It can work both ways, _Adar_. I can take of you. Or better, we can take care of each other.”

“Leggy is right, _Adar_. It is what _Naneth_ would have wanted. For all of us to take care of each other.” Calarel spoke up in her sweet voice. The two ellyn looked down at the elfling with soft eyes. The King and the prince knew that the princess was right. _Eletha would have wanted for us to look after one another. She told me that. I must honour her last wish._ Thranduil said to himself. His fingers squeezed his daughter’s hand and he felt his son’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

“We are going to be OK, _Adar_.” Legolas said.

“Do you really believe that?” Thranduil asked, raising his eyes to the prince’s. Legolas pressed his lips together and held out his free hand to his sister. Calarel slid her hand into her brother’s, making the three Elves form a small family circle, all linked together.

“I do.” The prince answered, his eyes speaking the truth.

“I do too.” The princess smiled gently, tears once again forming in her eyes. Thranduil’s gaze darted from his daughter to his son. He would make it through with them by his side. If they believed that they would be OK, then he believed it as well.

After twenty minutes, Legolas left for his weekly training with Captain Tyaeron, leaving Thranduil alone with his young daughter. She looked so much like Eletha that it did not help with the King’s injured heart. Her eyes were like two bright emeralds just like her mother’s and her hair was a long curtain of brown hanging to her waist just like her mother’s. The princess sat on the bed while her father sat on the floor, her small fingers weaving braids in his silken hair. He closed his eyes as he relaxed into the soft touch of her hands. After a couple of minutes, Calarel finished and Thranduil felt behind his head. He found that his daughter had laced three separate braids into one thick braid, the rest of his hair loose and lying over his broad shoulders.

“Thank you, darling. You are just as talented as your mother.”

Calarel smiled to herself, resting her hands in her lap. Thranduil turned around, his long legs tucked underneath his body.

“I love you very much, sweetheart. I have said this to your brother many times. I just want my children to feel safe and be happy. Your happiness is all I want in this world, Calarel.” The King said, clutching her small hands in his own.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t, sweetheart. You can’t possibly know or understand. Not until you have children of your own.” The King said. Calarel saw tears glisten in her father’s eyes as her own eyes began to form tears as well.

“I would do anything for you, Calarel. Anything to keep you safe, to keep you from harm. I would burn cities to the ground for you. You are all that matters. You and your brother and your aunts.” Thranduil whispered as Calarel cried. The King stood up and sat on the bed next to his daughter. Keeping his right hand in hers, he rested his left hand on her cheek, looking into her green eyes.

“ _Iell-nin_. My only daughter. My baby girl.” Thranduil murmured, pulling Calarel into a hug. The princess rested her head against her father’s chest, wrapping her small arms around his broad body. Thranduil felt her tremble in his arms and he tightened his embrace. He placed his cheek against the top of her head as his eyes squeezed out tears. The King and his daughter sat on the bed, locked in a tight hug, crying together.

 

**

 

The princess fell asleep in her father’s arms that night. Thranduil carried her to her brother’s chambers and found that Legolas was already inside. He placed his daughter in Legolas’s bed and he kissed her goodnight. He said goodnight to his son before leaving the chambers. But Thranduil did not return to his own chambers. Instead, he went to Eletha’s.

He stood in front of the door, his hands pressed against the solid wood. He would never open them again to see her face. He would never see her naked body wrapped in the bed sheets in a seductive pose. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The chambers were exactly the same. The bed was made neatly and everything was clean. The only thing that was missing was the Queen herself. The moonlight streamed through the windows, lighting up the stone floor in a white glow. His footsteps were quiet as he walked towards the bed. He placed his left hand on the sheets, remembering all the times that they had made love in the bed. Thranduil would never feel her lips on his, her hands touching every inch of her skin, her hair tickling his face. He reached the chest of drawers beside the bed and opened the top one. He pulled out the sketch book that he had given her so long ago when she was pregnant with Legolas. The King sat down on the bed, his coat falling to the floor. He opened the book and flipped through all the letters and drawings that Eletha had done inside. Sketches of himself, Legolas, Calarel, Valpantiel, Tyaeron, Melda, Tauriel, the palace and the forest. She had only filled half of the book up and the last thing she wrote was a letter.

 

_I am riding off to Gundabad tomorrow with the King, the prince and the army. Everyone I loved tried to stop me but they could not. It was my decision to go and I still plan to go. I want to fight for my freedom. I want to fight for my husband’s freedom and my children’s freedom. I want to fight for the freedom of my home._

_I have never been in a real battle before so I do not know what to expect. I am also completely and utterly petrified. I know that dragons might be there. I know the damage that their wrath can bring. I fear for my family’s lives. What if I turn around and find that my husband has been burnt alive? What if my son suffers the same fate? If that happens, I will gladly allow the dragons to burn me as well._

_The saddest thing to me about going is that I am leaving my daughter behind. She will be alone with no family here in the palace. Her voice pleading for me not to go will haunt me every day that I am away. I know that I am a terrible mother to leave her behind but I want to follow my beloved and my son into battle. They know my strength. They know that I am strong. They know_ _I can survive this battle. I will not die. I cannot leave my family. They would die of broken hearts if I perished._

_I will miss my home. I will miss Tauriel. I will miss Lucile and my handmaidens. But above all, I will miss my daughter the most. I know that she will be safe here in the palace, surrounded by people that will protect her while her family is gone. So, off I go to battle tomorrow and I have full faith that we will be victorious._

_Queen Eletha of Greenwood the Great_

 

Thranduil felt tears flow down his cheeks, salty and hot. They did win the battle but they lost the Queen. She had believed that they would win and they did. She knew that she was putting her life in danger. And she had been determined to protect her home, protect it from the dark forces of the world. But in doing so, she gave her life for her son’s. That showed exactly how much she loved him. She would rather die than have Legolas die. And that’s what happened.

He shut the book and placed it back in the drawer, his fingers letting go of the leather cover. He closed the drawer and went over to the wardrobe. Thranduil opened it to reveal her many gowns, dress, leggings and tunics. His fingers brushed over the fabrics of leather, velvet, cotton and silk. The King recognised the gown that she had worn the night that they had first made love. He recognised her wedding gown and her Guard attire. He prowled along her clothes before finding one of her satin nightdresses. The fabric was smooth and cool beneath his fingers. Thranduil pulled the nightdress out of the wardrobe, holding it in his large pale hands. He raised it to his face and inhaled the scent. It smelled like his wife. He closed his eyes and let her fragrance flood through his body. He clutched the nightdress tightly, remembering all the times that she had worn it. Thranduil walked over to the bed and collapsed onto it, his nose still buried in Eletha’s nightdress.

His long pale blonde hair fanned around him on the pillow. The pillow also smelt like her. Everything in the chambers smelt like her. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face into it. Thranduil felt more tears run down his face, crying into the pillow, wishing that Queen Eletha, _his_ Queen, was still alive.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Amin hiraetha – I’m sorry

  * Diola lle – Thank you

  * Ion-nin – My son

  * Iell-nin – My daughter

  * Adar – Father

  * Naneth – Mother

  * Namaarie – Farewell

  * melamin – my love

  * Quel kaima – Sleep well




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t anything about Elven funerals so I made it up. This chapter was very difficult to write because of all the raw emotion in it. I was getting really teary-eyed and I wonder if I have made any of you feel upset. Please tell me your thoughts, it really does help and gives me motivation to write even better! This chapter was inspired by ‘Tears of An Angel’ by Ryandan. See you for Chapter 3!


	3. The Abyss Of Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil travels to his favourite lake and Melda struggles with losing her closest friend. Legolas and Tauriel go on a patrol together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a flashback about Thranduil with his mother. I wanted to explore the familial bond that he had with her, maybe just to inch away from his mourning over Eletha. Yet he does see his wife again. Anyway, 7,000+ words, enjoy :)

The arrow hit the target right in the bullseye perfectly. Tauriel lowered her bow and smiled. She had gotten better every week and was an accomplished member of the Woodland Guard. She grabbed another arrow from the vat beside her and cinched it to her bow. She aimed it at the target again and let the arrow fly. It landed right next to the first arrow and Tauriel smiled again. Training was the only thing that made her smile these days. She still mourned for the Queen. She had been so nice to her and Tauriel felt as though she had lost an adoptive mother. Tauriel could not understand how Legolas and Calarel felt. And she definitely could not understand how Thranduil felt. She remembered the funeral and the three eulogies that were spoken. They had all brought tears to her eyes. They still brought tears to her eyes. She had felt a connection with the Queen because they were of the same class. They were both Silvan. They had both been poor. And they had both been given privileges that were usually only fit for the Sindar.

“Great work, Tauriel.”

The red-haired elleth turned around to see Lady Melda standing behind her, her arms folded and a small smile on her face.

“Thank you, Melda.” Tauriel said, lowering her bow. Even though Melda was smiling, the Silvan Elf could see the sadness in her face. And Tauriel didn’t blame her. Melda had been close to Eletha for over a century. They had been so close that they considered each other as sisters. So Melda felt like she had lost a family member. Training Tauriel took her mind off things and cured her of her sorrow a little bit.

“How are you feeling?” Tauriel asked, knowing that it was a stupid question. But she considered Melda a very close friend and she wanted to comfort her. Melda stepped up to Tauriel and stood beside her, her violet eyes on the two arrows that had pierced the red target.

“I am fine, Tauriel. Thank you for asking.”

Tauriel could hear the grief in Melda’s voice. It had only been two days since the royal funeral so the pain and grief was still fresh for everyone. The red-haired elleth looked at Melda’s hands to see that her fingers were digging into her arms quite roughly. Melda was hurting herself and Tauriel did not know why. Her hazel eyes widened and she handed her teacher an arrow from the vat.

“Shoot, Melda.”

The elleth with golden hair looked down at Tauriel, noticing the feathered arrow in her hand. Melda grabbed her quiver from her back and held it in front of her. She took the arrow from Tauriel with her other hand and looked at its sharp point. Melda preferred to fight with knives and swords but that did not mean that she could not use a bow and arrow. Her gaze locked to the arrow, remembering all the time that she had seen Eletha shoot one. She wished that she could have saved her. But a single simple Elven arrow could do nothing to full-grown, fire-breathing dragon. Tauriel watched as Melda cinched the arrow to the bow and aimed the point at the red target. The feathers tickled her mouth as she breathed deep breaths, keeping her eyes locked to the two arrows that Tauriel had already let loose. Melda closed her eyes for a few seconds but when she opened them, the target had disappeared. Instead, Tarrol was standing there, his face speckled with blood and his black hair messy from blood and wind. He held a sword in his right hand and lying limp at his feet was Eletha. She was dead. Any person could see that. Her emerald eyes were open and they had lost their beautiful sparkle. Her lips were parted and her left arm lay by her side while her right hand rested on a still bleeding wound in her abdomen. Her stunning pale face was as white as the moon and her lips were purple. Dark red blood stained her hands, tunic and neck.

“No!” Melda shouted, immediately firing her arrow at Tarrol. It pierced him in the stomach but strangely, he did not move or react. He just smiled evilly, his eyes dark and full of revenge. Melda reached past Tauriel and grabbed another arrow, firing it at Tarrol again. This time, it hit him in his throat. Blood spurted from his wound but again, he did not react. Melda reached for a third arrow, much to Tauriel’s disbelief.

“Melda! What are you doing?”

Melda did not respond and let her third arrow loose. It pierced Tarrol’s heart but he just stood there, his evil smile never fading. His sword was stained with Eletha’s blood as were his hands.

“She is gone. And there is nothing that you can do about it.” The ellon stated in his cool voice, staring right at Melda with cold eyes. Melda lost it. She dropped her bow and started to run towards Tarrol, drawing her sword. She screamed as she stabbed Tarrol before slicing his head off. Tauriel and the rest of the soldiers watched on in horror as Melda completely destroyed the arrow target, cutting it to shreds.

“Captain! Captain!” Tauriel shouted, tears welling in her eyes. Tyaeron appeared at her side in a flash. She pointed at Melda, her lips trembling. Tyaeron touched Tauriel’s shoulder and rushed over to Melda, evading her sharp sword.

“Melda! Melda! Calm down! What is wrong?”

Melda panted and closed her eyes, her sword falling from her hands. When she opened her eyes, she saw the damage that she had done. Bits of wood littered the grass as well as splintered arrows, completely hacked to nothing. She let out a choked sob and fell to her knees, her hands shaking as she covered her face. Tyaeron knelt down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. She trembled in his arms, sobbing, tears streaming down her hot cheeks.

“I cannot believe that she is gone. I loved her.” Melda whimpered.

“I loved her too. We all did.” Tyaeron whispered, running his hand through the elleth’s golden hair. The Captain had witnessed the sororal bond that Melda and Eletha had shared. He had seen the way they had cared and loved each other. Melda felt like she had lost a sister. And Tyaeron also felt like he had lost a sister. He had grown close to the Queen over the decades of knowing her. He had taught her how to fight like a true warrior. He had seen a fierceness in her. But that was gone. Everything about Eletha had perished from the world. To see Melda feel such terrible sorrow was a thing that Tyaeron had never wished to see. But it was happening at that very moment and he had no choice but to comfort her. There was nothing else that he could do.

Legolas walked into the training grounds to see only half of the soldiers training. He saw Tauriel standing with a dozen Guard members, her beautiful face streaked with tears. The prince’s eyes fell upon the Captain, who was kneeling down on the grass, his arms wrapped around Melda’s trembling body. Legolas walked up to Tauriel and placed his hand on her shoulder. The elleth turned to look at him, her hazel eyes shining.

“My prince.” She bowed her head.

“Tauriel, what has happened?” Legolas asked. Tauriel looked down at Tyaeron and Melda and rubbed the end of her nose with the back of her hand.

“Melda just went…crazy. She hacked the arrow target to pieces. Then, she felt to the ground crying.”

The prince followed Tauriel’s gaze, his eyes bright and blue just like his father’s. His hand fell away from Tauriel’s shoulder and he stepped up to the Captain and Melda. He knelt down next to Tyaeron and reached out his hands, pulling Melda’s away from her face. The golden-haired elleth looked up to see Legolas kneeling next to Tyaeron.

“Legolas…” She murmured, her violet eyes full of surprise and sorrow. Apart from the King being in the healing chambers with terrible injuries, the prince had never seen his aunt so weak and upset. He had always seen Melda as being tough and strong. She was a formidable warrior and had stared into the face of death multiple times. It was rare to see her vulnerable side. But with Thranduil still grieving and Eletha dead and gone, that part of her had come out of its hiding face. Melda had thrown away her tough mask and let her guard down. She did not know how Legolas felt. Eletha was his mother and was the light of his life. _I am here crying my eyes out and he looks so…so…calm._ Melda thought. The truth was that Legolas was calm when he went out in public. But in the privacy of his chambers, he broke down, the memory of his perfect mother flooding into his mind. Legolas held Melda’s hands in his own, squeezing her fingers in reassurance.

“Melda, what happened? Why are you crying?” He asked her, searching her grief-stricken face for an answer. Tyaeron rubbed her face soothingly as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I…I saw Tarrol. He was standing over Eletha’s dead body.” Melda choked out. Tyaeron’s eyes snapped up, staring at Legolas. The prince returned the Captain’s glance for a moment before looking back at Melda.

“He did not cause the death of my mother, Melda. You know that.”

“I do know that. I am just so…full of sorrow. I can feel it. I…wish she was here. I _want_ her here.” Melda murmured softly. Tyaeron kissed the top of her head as Legolas’s grip on her hands tightened. He wanted his mother back too. Everyone in the palace and in the villages wanted her back. Legolas placed one of his hands on Tyaeron’s shoulder and gave him a soft look.

“Do you mind if I have a minute with Melda?”

“Of course, my prince. I must get the soldiers to resume their training.” The Captain said. He kissed Melda’s head again and unlocked his arms from around her body which were quickly replaced by Legolas’s. Tyaeron stood up and commanded orders to the soldiers. Tauriel gave Legolas and Melda one last glance before moving off to the dagger station, followed by Tyaeron.

Melda wept in Legolas’s arms, wrapping her own arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. The prince stroked her hair, as soft and silken as his. He held her tightly, trying to stop her body from shaking like a leaf. Legolas managed to get Melda to her feet and led her over to the corner of the training grounds, away from the fighting. His fingers curled around her upper arms, trying to console her as best he could.

“Melda. You are upset. You are grieving. You hallucinated Tarrol.”

“I know I did. I do not know what came over me. I saw her lying there, dead and cold. And his sword…it was stained with her blood. I witnessed my worst fear.” Melda said, finally raising her eyes to the prince’s.

“I just wish I could have saved her. Even better, I wish I could have stopped her from coming to Gundabad.”

Legolas felt like she was echoing his father’s words back to him. Thranduil had said the same thing. Legolas thought the same thing as well. Everyone wished that they had stopped her. But ultimately, it had been Eletha’s choice to go. She knew that she was putting her life on the line. She took that risk and it ended with horrific circumstances. Legolas stared at his aunt with distraught eyes.

“I wish I had stopped her too, Melda. But that is in the past now. And we cannot do anything about it. You have to stop blaming yourself. My father is the same as you. I cannot handle the two of you feeling responsible for my mother’s death. It was no-one’s fault.”

Melda blinked at Legolas through tearful eyes, her cheeks flushed with sadness. She knew that he was right. She just could not believe that Eletha was gone. All the happiness and love that the Queen had spread throughout the realm had been replaced with a deep sadness, covering the land like a thick layer of mist. Melda placed her hands on Legolas’s forearms, staring at him with sparkling violet eyes.

“His Grace and I _do_ feel responsible. If we had tried harder, we could have prevented this tragedy from happening. I just wish that there was a way to bring her back.”

“Believe me, Melda, I would love that but we have to live with this. My mother came to me in my dreams and she told me that she would live on in our hearts and in our souls but she also said that we have to move on. I want to honour her last wish. We will grieve and miss her terribly but we have to live on and appreciate what we have got.”

Melda could see so much of Eletha in Legolas from that one statement. He embodied so much of her. _At least Eletha would live on in her children._ Melda thought. She took her hands off his arms and placed them on either side of the prince’s face.

“You remind me so much of her, Legolas. You may have taken after your father in your appearance but your personality, you have inherited that from your mother. When you speak, her voice comes out.” Melda said, a hint of a smile coming across her lips. Legolas lowered his eyes and felt tears welling up. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, burying his face in her golden hair. Melda locked her arms around Legolas’s neck, one of her hand resting in his braided hair. She heard him weep softly and she felt the tears coming back. Melda did not blame Legolas at all for being so emotional. He had just lost his mother and his father had almost died. Now that the Queen was gone, Melda felt a responsibility to look after her best friend’s children. Thranduil was still grieving. He was not in the right state to take care of his children. Not yet. Melda now felt like she had to be the mother figure in the royal children’s lives. The elleth broke the hug and kissed the prince’s temple, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“I have to go on my patrol with Tauriel. Do you feel better now?” Legolas asked.

“Yes, I do. Tyaeron is here. He will keep me in check. You go on your patrol with Tauriel. I will see you soon.” Melda said, patting Legolas’s face before leaving his presence and walking up to the Captain, drawing her sword. She was ready to train.

Legolas wiped his tears away and took a deep breath. He turned around and made his way over to Tauriel. When the elleth heard her name, she lowered her daggers and looked over her shoulder to see the prince.

“Yes, my prince?” Tauriel asked. Even though Legolas had asked her not to call him that, she still did but only in public. When they were alone, Tauriel called him by his true name.

“You and I have a patrol to do for an hour.” He said, patting the hilt of his sword. Tauriel twirled her daggers and sheathed them into their scabbards at the small of her back. She filled her quiver with arrows and held her bow in her left hand. She pushed her hair off her shoulders, letting it fall down her back like a copper river. Legolas just stared at her, admiring how beautiful she looked in the warm sunlight. She looked like an angel with her fair skin and perfect hair. Tauriel looked at Legolas and found that he was staring right at her, not even blinking. She placed her hand on his arm and Legolas snapped out of his thoughts.

“Do you feel OK, my prince?” Tauriel asked. She did not know why she asked him that. It was a stupid question. _He just lost his mother. Of course he does not feel OK._ She said to herself. Legolas felt his heartbeat quicken at the touch of her hand and from being in such proximity to her. His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword and he nodded.

“I feel fine, Tauriel. Let’s go.”

 

**

 

Thranduil was still lost, so deep within his grief. And being alone did not help his sorrow. _I cannot just sit here in my chambers. I have to get out._ He said to himself. He had told himself that for four days before finally _doing_ it. The King left his chambers and headed down to the stables. Grabbing Aerandir’s saddle and reins, he walked into the paddock to find his elk standing by the hedge that was the barrier between the paddock and the forest.

“Aerandir, _mellon-nin_.” The King called out. The elk turned its head in the direction of its owner and it snorted. He trotted over to the King as Thranduil walked over to him. The two of them met halfway and Thranduil reached out his free hand, palm up. Aerandir placed his nose in his palm and nuzzled it and Thranduil’s mouth finally broke out into a soft smile. He could not remember the last time he had smiled. Probably when he saw his daughter after the funeral. Thranduil then saddled Aerandir up, placing the reins around his neck and putting the saddle over his back, tightening it to fit perfectly. He gave him a pat before hopping on his back gripping the reins in his ring-adorned hands.

“Good boy.” Thranduil said, stroking Aerandir’s neck. He kicked the elk’s sides, clicking his tongue, and Aerandir began to move. Thranduil made the elk trot through the stables, past all of the horses. He ignored the shouts from the guards and rode out into the forest of Greenwood.

The late morning sun was warm on the King’s face, lighting up his pale blonde hair. The wind graced his face, his silver cloak flying out behind him. He breathed in the air, the scent of the forest consuming his body. Thranduil had known that scent for many centuries, ever since he was a small elfling. The forest had been his home ever since he had been born over 2,000 years ago. As he rode past the bushes, trees and wildlife, the King remembered all the times he had visited the forest with his parents. When he was young, Lyraesel was the one who spent the most time with Thranduil. Oropher was King and was busy every day. It was a rarity that he got a day off to spend time with his son. It had only happened less than a dozen times. Thranduil thought that his father cared more about his realm and his legacy rather than his only son and heir. And Oropher had proved that time and time again. But Thranduil was happy that he was with his mother most of the time. He adored her, loved her like any son would love his mother. Thranduil remembered the days when he would stroll the forest paths with his mother.

 

_Her fingers weaved with his, her pale skin smooth and perfect. He looked up at his mother, admiring the way her wavy pale blonde hair whipped around her shoulders and back._

_“Naneth?” He asked._

_“Yes, ion-nin?” Lyraesel said._

_“Why couldn’t Adar come with us today?”_

_Queen Lyraesel knew the answer to her son’s question. She stopped walking and looked down into his bright blue eyes, the exact same as Oropher’s. Lyraesel went down to her knees, her blue gown pooling around her body. The tweets of birds echoed around the forest, mimicking the singing of angels. The Queen took Thranduil’s hands in hers and pressed her lips together, sighing._

_“Your father wishes he could be here. He really does. But he is stressed, my son. He is frustrated and busy.”_

_“But he is always busy. I have not seen him in a week, Naneth. And when I try to go and see him, his guards send me away. They will not let me seen Adar. I **want** to see him.” Thranduil said, his bottom lip trembling. Lyraesel saw the small tears blossoming in her son’s eyes and could not help but feel her heart sink. She did not like seeing Thranduil upset. She was his mother and wanted to see him laugh and smile. Enjoy his youth but not having a male authority figure half the time did not help at all. Lyraesel placed one of her hands on her son’s cheek and looked deep into his eyes._

_“I know you do, Thranduil. And you will. I will make sure that you will.” She vowed, not blinking to show that she meant what she had said. Thranduil blinked at her through tearful eyes._

_“Do you promise?”_

_“I promise. Do you hear me? I promise.” Lyraesel said and Thranduil nodded. The breeze ruffled his straight locks, the strands glowing silver-gold in the sunlight that streamed through the trees that were towering above them._

The sound of Aerandir’s hooves brought Thranduil out of his thoughts. He remembered that interaction with his mother like it was yesterday. He had only been twenty years old then and resembled a 9-year-old human boy. He still remembered his mother’s friendly eyes. He still remembered the fragrance of her wavy hair. But most of all, he remembered her soft voice, promising him that he would see his father soon.

The King gripped the reins as the elk cantered through the forest, racing past baby deer and rabbits, sending them scurrying away into the bushes. He knew where he was going. He knew where he wanted to go. The wind was soft and refreshing on his skin, tousling his long hair. It took another ten minutes to reach his destination. And when he did, Thranduil had never been so pleased to see the lake. The sunlight glimmered on the surface, sending white crystals over the clear blue water. It was a beautiful sight but the tragedy of it was that it reminded Thranduil of all the time that he and Eletha had visited the lake together. Swimming into the water at the beginning of their love life. Making love on the Queen’s 1,711th nameday. They were all memories that he held dear but now made his heart weep.

The King made Aerandir trot up to the nearest tree, keeping his eyes to the shimmering lake. The elk halted and Thranduil dismounted him, tying the reins around one of the trees thick roots. He gave Aerandir a stroke on the neck and slowly stepped away from him, his booted feet crunching the grass.

Thranduil walked along the water’s edge, not even a ripple in sight. The sun was warm on his face, his hair glowing brightly. He stopped walking after ten metres and leaned down, bending his knees. Thranduil remembered that the tent stood there. What he and his wife did in that tent was one of the greatest nights of his long life. The King closed his eyes and placed his left hand on the grass, his palm feeling the ground’s softness. He remembered the wool rug and white pillows. He remembered the golden glow from the lanterns that hung from the tent’s ceiling. A smile came upon his lips as he remembered her writhing body beneath his. Her moans as he kissed her and pleasured her. Her heart beating in sync with his own. Thranduil curled his fingers around a bunch of grass, tightening his grip on it. He felt a single tear fall down his right cheek, making a wet line stain his perfect pale skin. The soft breeze sent his hair flying around his shoulders and over his face but he could not care less about it.

“I miss you, _melamin_. I want you back.” He whispered. That was Thranduil’s only wish. But he knew that it would never be granted because nothing could bring someone back from the grave. Then, he felt something touch his cheek. At first, he thought it was the wind but when he opened his eyes, he found that it was _definitely not_ the wind.

Eletha looked exactly the same. Her eyes were that beautiful shade of green, sparkling like emeralds. Her hair was that delectable colour of chocolate, hanging down a little past her waist. Her skin was that perfect pale colour, just like porcelain. Her tall and lithe body was garbed in a gold gown with a V-neckline and long pointed sleeves. She stood before him as if she was real. Her left hand was placed on his right cheek, brushing away the tear.

“Eletha…” Thranduil murmured, his blue eyes bright from his tears. A smile tugged at the corners of her pink lips, making his heart jump. Thranduil did not remember the last time his heart had done that. It seemed like forever.

“Do not weep, _a'maelamin_. Your tears will bring you no joy.” Eletha said, her voice tinkling like that of an angel. Thranduil stared up at her, his whole body shivering with grief.

“Nothing will ever bring me joy.” Thranduil sobbed. He raised his right hand and tried to place it on hers but he felt nothing. He did not feel her fingers or her skin. He realised that it wasn’t really her. _It will never be her. She is gone from my life forever._ He said to himself, his hand dropping from his face. Thranduil watched as Eletha knelt down in front of him, placing her other hand on his face, staring deep into his eyes.

“Our children will bring you joy, Thranduil. Do not distance yourself from them. They are your most greatest treasures now.”

Thranduil felt her thumbs ghost over his cheeks, wiping away his salty tears. He wished that he could touch her. He wished that she was real. He wanted her to be alive. But the Gods could be cruel. Thranduil knew that Eletha was right. Now that she was gone, Legolas and Calarel were the most important people in his life. They had his blood flowing through their veins. They were the only living memory of Queen Eletha. _Maybe my children and I will grow even closer because of her death._ He thought. He hoped that it would become true.

“I love you, Eletha. I will always love you. I will love you forever.” Thranduil whispered, captivated by her beauty. Even in death and in spirit, she was beyond stunning. Except she was an apparition. It was not her. Eletha smiled gently and leaned in close, resting her forehead against his.

“I love you too, Thranduil. For all time.” She said. She moved her lips to his cheek but he did not feel her kiss. All he felt was the wind ruffling his locks and the sun on his skin. Thranduil closed his eyes, feeling a couple of tears stream down his face. He felt her hands leave his cheeks and when he opened his eyes, Eletha was gone.

 

**

 

Legolas had been on many patrols with Tauriel over the past few years. He enjoyed her company and he could see that she enjoyed his. They were the closest of friends. Or at least Tauriel felt that way. She was not blind to his stares and longing looks. She did not understand why he looked at her the way he did. There were many other ellith who Legolas could give those stares to but he had chosen to give them to Tauriel. He had chosen that many months ago.

“Legolas?”

“Yes, Tauriel?”

The elleth swallowed deeply as she walked through the forest with the prince. Legolas waited for her to speak, marvelling at the way her cheeks flushed, matching her flaming red hair. Tauriel finally looked at him, her hazel eyes shining.

“It is a bit of a personal question, if you do not mind me asking?”

“You are my…friend, Tauriel. Do not be afraid to ask me anything.” Legolas said, giving her a reassuring smile. Tauriel smiled back and took a deep breath.

“The battle at Gundabad. I have heard stories about it from the soldiers. But I wish to ask you, were you afraid?”

The prince stopped walking, his body frozen in surprise and shock. His fingers curled his bow, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Legolas did not like recalling the battle. It was where his mother had died. It was where his father had been burnt horrifically by dragonflame. It was a day that haunted his dreams at night and followed him around in the day. Tauriel halted too and looked at the prince. She could see that she had made him comfortable. She lowered her head in embarrassment, her hair pouring over her shoulders.

“I apologise, my prin-Legolas. I did not mean to upset you. I…” The elleth trailed off, clearly ashamed. But Legolas assured her with a wave of his hand.

“It is fine, Tauriel. I know you meant no harm. And you have given none. And to answer your question, yes. Yes, I was afraid. I did not have a reason not to be. To be afraid is to be alive. I had been afraid since my mother told me that she was coming to Gundabad. I have been scared since that day. I still am.” Legolas said, his expression full of honesty and grief.

“I am sorry for your loss, Legolas. I truly am.”

“Tauriel, if I had a gold coin for every time you said that to me in the past month, I would have enough money to buy myself a brand new bow.”

Tauriel cracked a smile and so did Legolas. And then, they were chuckling softly. The prince could not remember the last time he had laughed. He had been in a state of mourning that did not allow him to feel free and happy. But his chuckles soon turned into sobs. He let the tears flow down his cheeks, displaying his true emotions. Tauriel gasped and stepped up to the prince, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Legolas, my prince, I…I did not mean…Please do not cry…I…Legolas…” Tauriel did not know what to say. She did not know what to do. She was not an expert in consoling anyone who was crying, let alone a prince who had witnessed his mother’s death. Legolas gripped Tauriel’s arm with his right hand, holding onto her for support. His knees wobbled as he struggled to stand. Tauriel noticed this and tightened her hold on Legolas but he fell, his knees crashing to the ground.

“Legolas!” Tauriel cried, kneeling down in front of the prince, her hand still on his shoulder. His body trembled and shook, wracking with sobs. Legolas felt vulnerable, completely broken down as his female friend tried to console him.

“Legolas, breathe. Just breathe, _mellon-nin_.” She said in the most comforting tone that she could muster. Legolas heard her voice. It was a beautiful voice and he could hear his blood pumping, pounding in his ears. It hurt and it felt unpleasant. He tried to concentrate on Tauriel’s voice, using it as an anchor to bring him back. Tauriel kept on telling him to breathe and calm down, watching as he closed his eyes.

“No, do not close your eyes! Look at me, Legolas. Look at me.” She demanded, her fingers squeezed his shoulder, shaking him gently. Legolas heard her plea and opened his eyes, staring into two pools of pure hazel beauty. His vision was focused entirely on the elleth that was speaking his name.

“That’s it. Look at me and breathe, Legolas. Just look at me and breathe.” Tauriel said, a look of concern washing over her pale yet beautiful face. He tried to calm his racing heart and his breathing started to resume to its normal pace. He started to feel better, his heartbeat slowing down. But the look on Tauriel’s face made his heart flutter and sing. No other elleth had such an effect on him. First, he was crying like an elfling. And a minute later, he was falling for the Silvan Elf called Tauriel.

“Legolas? Are you OK now? How do you feel?” She looked at him, searching his face for an answer. The prince pressed his lips together in a smile and loosened his grip on her arm.

“I feel fine, Tauriel. Thank you, _mellon-nin_.”

“For what?”

“For calming me down. For helping me.”

“That is what true friends do.” Tauriel said, a smile mirroring Legolas’s on her face. She was grateful to see that he was OK. Tauriel could somewhat relate to how he was feeling. She herself had seen her own mother die in front of her. She remembered that day clearly. The crack of her mother’s skull when the Orc hit her with his mace. But Tauriel’s mother had not been the Queen of Greenwood. Eletha had been. Losing a royal is an unconceivable thing for all Elves. The mourning was shared with the entire realm and other Elven realms as well. It was then that Tauriel realised how close the prince’s face was to hers. Their foreheads were almost touching and their lips were mere centimetres away from each other’s. Legolas thought that she looked absolutely beautiful, the sun lighting up her vibrant hair and fair skin. She was still so young. She was only 65 years old and still hadn’t reached full maturity yet. Legolas was 132 years old, almost double her age. But that did not stop the feeling of wanting to kiss her. _My parents were centuries apart in their ages. My mother was over a half a millennium younger than my father._ Legolas thought. He realised that he thought “was” and not “is”. Past tense. Anything regarding Eletha was never going to be an “is” again. That was taken away from him for the rest of his life. The prince felt his bow fall from his hand, the fingers of his other hand still gripping her arm. Legolas raised his free hand to her face, not blinking as he looked into her stunning eyes. Just as his hand was about to touch her cheek, Tauriel flinched away, breaking eye-contact with him. Legolas had a feeling that she would not allow him to touch her so intimately. Tauriel saw him as a close friend, an older brother of sorts. And what he had just suggested was not something a friend would do. Tauriel removed her hand from Legolas’s shoulder as his hand fell away from her arm. The elleth stood up, brushing the dirt off her tunic with her free hand, her other hand holding her strong bow.

“Uh, we…we…should get back to our patrol.” She stammered, her heart feeling an emotion that she had no words for. Legolas looked up at the elleth that he liked more than a friend and nodded.

“Yes, you are right, _mellon-nin_.” He said, picking up his bow and rising to his feet. There were a few moments of tension before the two Elves carried on with their patrol. The next hour was uneventful and there was nothing out of the ordinary. However, there were taut silences between the two of them. Tauriel was trying to decipher the meaning behind Legolas’s moment of affection. The way he had looked at her was not the way an ellon looked at an elleth who was his friend. It was a look of adoration, of devotion. The devotion an ellon would show his mate. _But I cannot be his mate. I am of a lower class than him. He is the prince, for Valar’s sake!_ Tauriel said to herself. She did not feel that way about him. She never wanted to. Legolas was worried about his interaction with her. It was a step forward that had been too much and far too soon. He was also concerned that it would ruin the friendship that they had built over the last 27 years. On their way back to the palace, Legolas decided to speak.

“Tauriel, I...”

“Stop, Legolas.”

“Please let me explain…” Legolas begged.

“No! Stop, Legolas.” Tauriel cried, placing her hand on his chest. She stopped walking and he halted next to her. He eyed her curiously, wondering why they had stopped.

“What is it?” Legolas asked. Tauriel did not look at him and let her hand fall away from his chest.

“Look.” She said, pointing ahead. Legolas followed her gaze and his eyes widened. He did not realise that they had reached the lake. The lake that he had visited with his parents many times over the past century. But it was not the lake that surprised the prince. It was that his father was sitting at the water’s edge, his eyes staring into his distance. Legolas saw Aerandir tied to a tree about ten metres away from the King, sniffing the roots of the tree. Tauriel was shocked to see the King alone. He looked like he was a trance which made him very vulnerable to attackers and assassins.

“What is your father doing here?” She asked.

“I do not know. He probably wants to be alone. Away from all the people in the palace.” Legolas answered.

“Why doesn’t he have guards? He should have guards.”

“You know as well as anyone, Tauriel, that my father can protect himself against anything.” The prince said. He stared at his father who had his back to the both of them, his long hair glowing silver-gold.

“But…we are here now, aren’t we?” Legolas smiled at Tauriel, patting the hilt of his sword at his left hip. Tauriel returned the prince’s gaze and nodded gently, the breeze blowing her long locks around her shoulders. Legolas gave her a curt nod and the two Elves walked towards the King, trying not to frighten him. When they were about six or seven metres away from him, Legolas stopped Tauriel from going any further.

“We do not want to scare him.” He whispered to her.

“You could never scare me, Legolas.”

The two Elves looked at the King in disbelief. He was staring right at them, his eyes a shade of piercing blue. Tauriel lowered her head in a polite gesture, acknowledging the King’s presence. Legolas stared at his father and placed his hand on his chest.

“ _Adar_ , it is a surprise to see you.”

“I say the same to you, _ion-nin_. On a patrol, are you?”

“Yes, _Adar_. What are you doing out here alone?” Legolas asked. Thranduil managed to smile a little.

“Oh, I am never alone, Legolas. Not ever.”

Legolas smiled back and bowed his head, his pale blonde hair flowing over his nimble shoulders. The King’s gaze went to the red-haired elleth that stood next to his son. She was dressed in her green Guard clothes and sturdy boots. She was armed with her sharp daggers and bow and arrows. Tauriel reminded the King of Eletha, seeing that the Queen had helped Tauriel with her training.

“Good afternoon, Tauriel.” He said to her. She looked at him, admiring his beauty from afar, before bowing her head again.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

Legolas glanced at Tauriel. He could see that she was still a little intimidated by the King. True, he did have a daunting presence but in solitary, he was gentle and kind. He looked at Tauriel like a daughter and Legolas noticed that all the time. Thranduil looked out across the lake again, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his silver robes splayed out around him. He blinked and then he saw her again. Eletha was gliding over the surface of the water like a flying angel. He blinked again but she was still there, her loose dress flying out behind her. Thranduil rose to his feet, keeping his eyes to his deceased wife. She looked like she was dancing, smiling as she spun in continuous circles. Even though her feet were on the surface of the lake, the water remained still as if there was nobody there. Because there was nobody there. Thranduil knew that his wife was a spirit, locked into the world that she had fallen in love with.

“ _Adar_ , what is it?” Legolas’s voice sounded very faint as if he was thirty metres away. Thranduil did not answer and kept his gaze to the elleth who danced and floated over the lake. She looked so real but she was an apparition and he knew it. Now that she was gone, he loved to look at her even more and marvel at her beauty. _Why must love cause me grief?_ The King asked himself. Love was supposed to bring people happiness and Thranduil thought that he had not felt enough love. He thought that he would have many more centuries to love Eletha and be with her and possibly have more children. But that was cruelly snatched away from him the day that she had decided to travel to Gundabad with the Elven army. Legolas and Tauriel shared a look, wondering what the King was looking at. The prince walked over to his father and placed his hand on his shoulder. The contact brought Thranduil out of his thoughts and he turned to look at his son.

“ _Adar_ , is something wrong?” Legolas asked. Thranduil looked out across the lake again to discover that Eletha was gone as if she was never there. He sighed softly and returned his attention to his eldest child.

“Nothing is wrong, Legolas. Nothing at all.” He said and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder in return. Tauriel watched the interaction between father and son in the distance, thinking that she was looking upon something that very personal and private. Legolas looked up at his father, his blue eyes soft. He knew that the King was still in mourning and he was too. But Legolas knew that they would make it through together. They were strong enough to survive it. He remembered the promise that he had made to his mother in his dream. _I promised her that I would look after my father and my sister. And I will._ He said to himself.

“Come on, _Adar_. We should get you back to the palace. It can be dangerous out here.” Legolas said and Thranduil could do nothing but nod. His hand fell away from his son’s shoulder as Legolas’s did the same. As Thranduil walked over to Aerandir, Legolas beckoned Tauriel over. The elleth walked side-by-side with Legolas as the King untied Aerandir from the tree root and mounted him. The three Elves then began their journey back to Greenwood Palace. Legolas and Tauriel walked on either side of the elk, guarding the King as Thranduil kept Aerandir at a slow trot. His mind went back to the spirit of Eletha that floated over the lake’s surface. She had looked so carefree and happy, not worried about anything. Thranduil remembered when he was like that. When he smiled and laughed like an ellon in a newfound romance. But he would never have that feeling again. That part of his heart would never be resewn. Elves only married once and many of them did it for love. Now that his wife was dead, Thranduil’s soul ceased to be its happy self. His heart would always belong to Eletha. Even in death, his heart was hers. And it would always be hers.

 

Elvish Translations

  * mellon-nin – my friend

  * Naneth – Mother

  * ion-nin – my son

  * Adar – Father

  * melamin – my love

  * a’maelamin – my beloved




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’re enjoying the story so far :) I can’t wait until I reach the movieverse because I’m really excited to merge my original storyline with that of The Hobbit. But until then, we shall wallow in mourning with the Elvenking and his loved ones :( This chapter was inspired by ‘Ghost’ by Ella Henderson and also, I just want to share this video with you guys: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_U8emkzsiE&list=PLEKMYnIrDZbqNmqLpAlPk3MZ7zonQaVtn&index=7 It’s about how the people of The Hobbit films created the character of Thranduil. It really inspired me for future chapters so if you want more depth into the character, check this video out!


	4. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brunette elleth wakes up at Gundabad and travels to Rivendell. Thranduil receives solace from two Elves with golden hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7,500+ words :) This chapter is set about a week after the Gundabad battle. But when we see Thranduil at the end of the chapter, we go forward into present time so the funeral has already happened, if that makes sense. I hope you enjoy it!

It was dark and the sky was overcast with bleak grey clouds. The land before the Gundabad fortress was a graveyard full of Orcs and Elves, all strewn across the desolated landscape. The breeze ruffled stones and dirt over the ground, giving the landscape a dark atmosphere. There was no sound from the living. Not a cry or even a gasp. The only sounds were the cackling crows, picking at the dead flesh of Orcs and Elves with their beaks. It was a feast for the scavengers, thousands of deceased soldiers to feed on. The entire place was dead, with no signs of life. That was until an Elf stirred within the dead bodies.

Very slowly, there was movement. The Elf moved her hands and groaned as she sat up, pushing an Orc’s body off her torso. She tried to stand but her back was sore and there was a burning pain in her right calf. The elf turned her leg over and she examined the deep cut in her flesh. It has ceased bleeding but she could see that it was inflamed and swollen. The sight revolted her so she did not look at it. The Elf blinked and looked around, adjusting her eyesight. The whole landscape was like a tomb, completely desolate and full of dead bodies, both Elves and Orcs. As far as she could tell, she was the only living thing present. After many tries, the Elf finally heaved herself up, allowing herself to stand. The pain in her calf increased and she let out a loud cry that echoed off the snow-capped mountains. She looked down at the ground and saw a glimmer underneath two Orcs’ bodies. She bent down gingerly, trying to ignore the burning pain and pushed the dead Orcs to the side. She gasped when her eyes fell upon on her sword. The white gems were still in the hilt and the blade and handle were both intact. The beautiful robust blade was stained with Orc blood, the silver a deep black. She wrapped her limp hand around the handle and picked up the sword. She felt stronger with it in her hand, her fingers wrapping themselves around the handle. She thought of the elleth that had given her the sword, who had made it for her. _Melda. My best friend. Is she alive? Is she OK? Why am I alive? Shouldn’t I be dead?_ The Elf asked herself. She looked around at the dead bodies, praying that Melda was not one of them.

She limped as she walked, gently stepping over Elves’ bodies and treading on Orcs’ bodies. There was a crunch beneath her feet and she looked down. She moved her foot and saw her bow, snapped in half and the string broken. _My adar bought me that bow._ She thought as her heart fell. She looked over her shoulder and saw that her quiver still sat on her back, containing only five arrows. _These arrows aren’t going to be of much use now._ The Elf picked up her broken bow and held the two pieces of it in her left hand. Her fingers glided over the wood as she felt tears spring in her eyes. She then felt her heart thump loudly as she touched her right hip. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt her daggers. _At least I have still got these._ She said to herself. She reached her hands up to her head and discovered that her gold circlet had disappeared. She was upset that it was gone but however, she was glad that she did not wear her emerald and silver circlet. She would be distraught if she had lost that precious piece of jewellery. The Elf looked around and saw many Elves that she knew. Many that she had called her friends. And now, they were dead. _And I should be too._ She looked up at the sky to find that there were no signs of the dragons. The fortress was quiet, full of darkness, not a sliver of light. _Where are the dragons?_ The Elf asked herself. Then, after a moment, she realised that she did not want that question to be answered. She had come too close to their fire. Its heat had been too close, so close that she could almost feel her flesh sizzle off of her bones. At the memory of dragonflame, the Elf felt a flash of pain in her left shoulder and upper arm. She looked down to see that the suede fabric of her tunic had been burnt away, revealing black and red crusted skin. The Elf sucked in a breath as she gently placed her fingertips on her injury. It stung and it hurt terribly. _How did I not feel that before?_ She asked herself. She had never seen what a dragon’s fire could do to a person’s skin. At least not in real life. she had drawings in books in the palace’s library but they did not show the full extent of damage to a person’s flesh. And it definitely did not show how painful it was. The Elf could almost still feel the agony of fire upon her skin.

The Elf was alone. She did not belong in the graveyard that was Gundabad. As she walked over the dead bodies, tears flowed down her cheeks. So many people that she had considered friends and loyal Elves were dead. She counted at least 2,000 dead Elves and even more dead Orcs. Some of the Elves were so mutilated that she could not even make out their faces. Sticky and dried blood drank in the soil, covering the rocks and pale and grey flesh. The Elf treaded carefully and sheathed her sword, gripping the two halves of her bow in her hands. She had never seen devastation and death on such a large scale. Now she understood why the King was so reluctant when she had told him her decision. She understood why he had been so scared. The Elf remembered when he had told her what had happened at the Gate of Mordor. She remembered when he recalled the day he had lost his father in one of the bloodiest battles that Middle-Earth had ever seen.

 

_“What happened, melamin? What happened to your father?” She asked. His body froze, still as a stone statue. She felt his arm tighten around her bare shoulders as she rested her head on his chest, her fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair. She heard his heart pounding, beating against his ribcage._

_“If you do not want to answer my question, you do not have to-” She began but he cut her off._

_“No, no, it is OK. I guess it is time that I should tell you.” The King said. She heard him take a deep breath and his deep voice dragged her in._

_“I was young when it happened. I was still a prince. I was still the rebellious ellon that everyone knew. My father made me second-in-command of the army. It shocked me that he had made that command. My father and I did not have a close relationship. We were constantly separate. There were times when I did not see him for many days. Not even a glimpse of him. Going to war with him was something that I had always thought about. Even though I did not love him the way that I should have, it had been my dream to fight beside him and fight with him.”_

_She closed her eyes and listened to the story. She had never met the late King Oropher but she had heard many tales about him. It was upsetting to hear how distant he had been from his son. She herself had had such a close relationship with her father. After her mother’s death, they had grown even closer. She wished that her husband had had the same thing._

_“The battle at the Black Gate of Mordor is a battle that still haunts my dreams. It happened over a period of five years and they had been the longest five years of my life. I was so far away from my mother and the people that I loved. But I had Tyaeron, Maeklin and Lord Elrond. And I had my father. On the last few days of the battle, my father and I had a couple of talks. He poured out everything to me. How he wished that he had been around when I was young. How he was sorry that I did not have a proper male authority figure growing up. How much he was proud of me. And how much he loved me. To hear him say the word “love” to me was something that I had dreamt about for so long. To hear him say it made me express my own adoration and love for him.”_

_She felt tears run down her cheeks, her body consumed with sadness. Her husband was being so open and honest with her. By Elven standards, they had not been together for very long. Him being so vulnerable and open made her love him even more, if that was even possible._

_“The night before he died, my father took me in his arms as if I was an elfling and sang me a lullaby. It was beautiful. It calmed me down and made me forgot about the war that we were fighting. It was on that night that I realised how much I loved my father. After all the years of torture and abuse, he was so gentle and treating me like his son and heir.”_

_“How did he die?” She asked, sniffling, her arm now wrapped around his torso. He placed his lips against her head and breathed in her natural fragrance._

_“He died fighting a large troll. But he died nobly and honourably. I held him in my arms. He left this world in my arms. It then dawned on me that I was the prince no longer. I would inherit my father’s crown and lands. Everything that was his was now mine. But I did not feel ready. I was nervous to ascend to the throne. I still did not play the rules. I was still youthful and wanted to enjoy life. But I did not have that luxury. I now had a huge weight and responsibility on my shoulders. I promised my father that I would look after his realm. I promised him that I would honour his legacy. The only thing I could was kiss his head after he had gone. After the war, I brought him home and a funeral was held. A week after, I was made King. My mother and my loved ones helped me through my grief. I just had one thing missing from my life.”_

_“And what was that?” She asked, raising her head from his chest. She lost herself in his piercing eyes, boring right into her bones. He smiled down at her, his fingers gliding over her upper arm._

_“You.”_

 

The Elf snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking. She remembered that conversation as clear as day. She missed him. Her heart lost its love and happiness. The string that tethered them together was now gone. She did not realise that she was crying again until she raised her hand to her face. She wiped away her tears and rolled her shoulders back comfortably. She raised her right foot and just as it was about to return to the ground, a grubby grey hand grabbed her ankle. The Elf gasped as the fingers constricted with an inhumane strength. She looked down and saw that the hand belonged to an Orc. An Orc that was still alive and breathing. She tried to get free but the Orc kept his hold on her, growling. She unsheathed one of her daggers and stared down into the Orc’s black eyes. She was just about to stab the evil creature but it pulled her down to the ground. She screamed as another flash of pain surged up from her calf. The two halves of her bow flew from her hands, crashing to the dirt two metre away. The Orc managed to get her underneath him, his ugly hands now gripping her shoulders. The Elf tried to get free. She tried to get a good grip on her dagger but her current position prevented her from doing so. She grunted as the Orc bared his sharp black teeth, letting out a deep snarl. Her eyes widened and her fingers reached for the handle of her dagger. _No. I will not die like this. Not cowering. Not from the hands of an Orc._ She said to herself. She closed her eyes as she felt the Orc’s disgusting breath on her face. She finally got a firm grip on her dagger and plunged it into the creature’s gut. The Orc yelped as she twisted the dagger further inside. Its hands loosened their hold on her shoulders and she pushed the Orc off her, removing her dagger. Now kneeling beside the Orc, she launched the dagger into its skull. She grunted and bared her teeth as the Orc drew its last breath.

The Elf pulled her dagger out and sat back, her legs splayed out in front of her. She winced when she touched the gash on her calf. _I need to get it checked or it will get infected._ The flesh around the wound was red and inflamed. As far as she could tell, it was already infected. But she needed help before it got any worse. _But where can I go?_ She asked herself. Her first instinct was to return home to Greenwood. Return home to her husband, her children and her friends. _But I cannot. Not when Tarrol is still out there._ She knew that he still wanted to hurt her family. They were in even more danger if she was with them. _They think I am dead. It should stay that way._ She said to herself, ignoring the sadness that her heart felt when she thought those words. The Elf did want to go home. But what she wanted was not the primary consideration. The only she could protect the people she loved was by staying away from them. _So where else can I go?_ Her first thought was Rohan. _But what could humans do?_ Then she had a better idea. _Rivendell._

The Elf groaned as she got to her feet. When she regained her footing, she did not sheath her dagger. _Just a precaution._ She told herself. She picked up her broken bow. Even though it was broken, she could not bear to let it go. _It was from my father. I cannot just leave it here. I will not._ The Elf now knew where she wanted to go. Where she needed go. She walked over the rest of the dead bodies and reached the edge of the quiet battlefield. She took one last look over her shoulder, tears welling up in her eyes.

“ _Namaarie_ , _mellonea_.” She whispered and set out for Rivendell, leaving the dead behind her. And her past as well.

 

**

 

After a full day of walking, the Elf was already tired. The pain in her calf and shoulder did not help. In fact, she was not walking. More like hobbling along. Soon, she reached lands full of grass and trees. No more gloomy mountains or dead bodies. When the sun had fallen below the horizon and the sky began to become dark, the Elf set up a small camp. It was cold and the wind sent a breath of fresh air on her terrible wounds. She managed to collect some wood and start a small fire. She sat in front of it and rubbed her hands together, trying to get the heat circulating. But the fire made her remember the dragons’ devastation. She remembered the searing pain of the flame on her skin, branding a black burn on her upper arm. The Elf stared into the fire, flickering in her eyes. She closed her eyes and remembered the dragons’ roars. She snapped her eyes open and gasped, her fingers reaching for the handle of her dagger. Her mind that used to be filled with wonderful memories, full of love and happiness was now consumed with battle cries and dragonflame. The heat from the fire made her body temperature rise, her blood pumping through her body. _Fire should have killed me. Why am I alive?_ She did not know the answer to her question. She tried to remember what happened. She closed her eyes again and thought in concentration. Images of herself and her son came into her mind. She remembered running towards him and pushing him against the stone, protecting him from the fire. After that, everything went black. She did not remember anything. _I must have been knocked out or something._ The Elf wished that she could remember what actually happened. It was a gap in her memory that she wanted filled.

When the moon was high in the sky and clouds drifted over the stars, the Elf decided that it was time to get some sleep. She used a patch of grass as a pillow and managed to extinguish the fire, the cool wind more prominent on her skin. She curled up on the ground, holding her dagger in her hand. She hated being alone. She was on her own in the wilderness, without proper protection or any food. _If I died, I would not here._ The Elf thought. She was an Elf that did not fear death. Well, she did but she did not let it consume her. She wondered if her loved ones survived the battle. She knew that her husband was alive. He was strong and one battle would not kill him. He had been in far worse battles than that one. It was the same for Melda and Tyaeron. Both of them were very fierce warriors and it would take much more to kill even one of them. It was Legolas and Valpantiel that she was most worried about. _I hope that they are OK. I want them to be OK._ As far as the Elf knew, everyone thought she was dead. She could not imagine how they were feeling. _My daughter. I…Oh no. what have I done? I left her. I promised her that I would return to her. I broke my promise. I am still breaking it by not returning to her._ Her thoughts were swimming, causing chaos inside her mind. She was fighting a war with herself. She wanted to go home but at the same time, she did not want to. _They are in danger if I return. I shall put their lives before mine. As I have always done._ She said to herself. Then, another thought hit her. Elves loved totally once and only once. Their hearts were intertwined for life. Unless something happened to break that connection. Death was the main cause. The Elf suddenly felt scared about her husband. _He thinks I am dead. He could have died from a broken heart. I do not know how long it has been since the battle. Days? Weeks?_ She was worried for him. But she knew that he was resilient. _He would stay alive for Legolas and Calarel. He would not abandon them. I just know it._ She told herself and finally willed herself to finally close her eyes and go to sleep.

 

_Snow was falling. She did not recognise the stone walls that were built around her. She heard the clang of swords. She heard the cries in Orcish, Elvish and the Common Tongue. She took a step forward and the light hit her eyes. The Elf found herself in the middle of a huge battle. She gasped and drew her sword. She cut through Orcs like butter, slicing them down. She did not know where she was. Obviously she was in some kind of city. She just did not know which one. From what she could see, it was quite large and rundown. Something must have happened here before this battle. She thought. She saw that she was armed with all of her weapons. The quiver sat on her back, her long hair hanging down her back. Her daggers sat at the small of her back and she held a bow in her left hand. She spun around in perfect precision, like that of a dancer. The blade of her sword was quickly covered in the black blood of Orcs and flecks of snow stuck to her chocolate coloured hair. She heard a familiar voice cry out a name._

_“Melda!”_

_She turned around and saw Captain Tyaeron fighting under an archway, taking on four Orcs at once. He kicked one in the groin as he stabbed another one through the throat. His dark hair was flying about his shoulders, his body clothed in leather and suede. But she saw that he was not wearing the dark green Guard uniform that the Captain wore. Then who is the Captain? She asked herself. Melda? Maybe Tauriel? The Elf thought. A growl from an Orc brought her back to reality. She cried and sliced it across the throat, black blood gushing from the wound. As she spun around, her eyes fell upon Melda. She was about twenty metres away, fighting back-to-back with a man who was definitely human. He had dark hair and a beard, his height just above hers. The Elf wondered who the man was. But a more important question entered her mind. Why is there battle? It confused her. There were legions of Orcs, way more than at Gundabad. It frightened her. But she continued to fight._

_Orcs came at her, one after the other. As soon as she killed one, another three replaced the dead. Black tarnished her hands and face, drying on her cheeks. Is my son here? He must be. She thought as she cut down Orc after Orc after Orc. She suddenly felt worried. She knew that Legolas was perfectly capable in defending not just himself but others too. But this army was beyond the description of big. It was enormous. She had never seen anything like it. As she fought, she saw men of all ages dressed in tattered clothes, fighting to the best of their ability with their flimsy weapons. Then she heard a voice cry out in Elvish. It followed with just grunts and growls. But she knew those sounds anywhere. She knew to which person they belonged to. Or to be exact, which **King** they belonged to. She ran towards the familiar grunts and growls, spinning, her hair flying out behind her. Just as her blade sliced an Orc’s head off, she came around a corner of a stone wall. And the Elf saw him._

_King Thranduil had not aged one bit. His hair was just as beautiful and his body was just as muscular. But he looked like a changed ellon. And she did not mean his armour. Just his facial expressions made him look so different. There was no smile on his lips or sparkle in his eyes. He was just a cold and hard exterior. The way he fought was just as beautiful and terrifying. He took on multiple enemies at once, his swords creating a storm of blood and violence. Her eyes fell upon a dead elk, lying only metres away from where Thranduil was fighting. Oh, no! Aerandir! She thought. She remembered the day that she had found him and brought him back to the palace. She remembered the look on her husband’s face when he saw him for the first time. But that character of Thranduil was lost. She found it hard to fight and process her thoughts but she managed to get another glimpse of Thranduil. And she knew that when she looked at him, that he was no longer her husband. He was not the same ellon that she had fallen in love with. He had changed. And it is all my fault. She said to herself as the Orcs came at her like a tsunami ready to swallow her._

The Elf woke up immediately, sitting up and panting. _What was that?_ She had no idea what she had just dreamed about. She looked around to see that the area was as quiet as when she fell asleep. The sun streamed through the canopy of trees but it did not hold the same beauty as it did in Greenwood Forest. The Elf sighed and checked her wounds to see that they had not got any better. _At least they have not gotten any worse._ But when she touched the inflamed gash in her calf, she felt that terrible feeling of pain flash up her leg. She still felt weak and she knew that she did not find water soon, she would have no chance in getting to Rivendell.

She managed to get to her feet, groaning quietly, not wanting to attract any attention from wild animals. She strapped her sword and quiver onto her, picking up the two broken halves of her bow. With her right hand, she held her dagger; the other one still sheathed in its scabbard at the small of her back. The Elf did not know how long her journey would be but going by her trip to Rivendell with her husband so many years ago, it would take about a week. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sun. From its position in the sky, she could tell that it was around noon. She tried to get the dream out of her head but it was stuck there like glue. Then, she put two-and-two together. The visions that Lady Galadriel had shown in Lothlórien decades ago had sparked her memory. She remembered seeing herself in a city with snow falling. _I dreamed about the same city. The same battle._ Her heart was now in her mouth. She was frightened. _When is it going to happen? Why will it happen? Where is the city?_ Her mind was complete chaos. But the grumble of her stomach drew her out of her concern and worry about the future. _I mus find food and water._ And with that thought, the Elf set off on her journey.

 

**

 

The next six-and-a-half days were the worst days of her life. _I still should not have a life._ She thought. She had found water but hardly any food. She did her best to hunt but was unsuccessful the majority of the time. Her injuries held her back and she could not move as fast as she wanted to. Over that period of time, the wound on her leg had gotten infected and blue veins were extending out from it. The Elf knew that it meant that she had blood poisoning. _That will kill me if I do not get treatment._ Then came the fear of facing Lord Elrond. No doubt that Thranduil had told him about her death. The Elven kingdoms tended to mourn together in times like these. _What is he going to do when he sees me? I cannot let him tell my husband. He cannot. I have to make him listen._ She said to herself, trying to gain some self-confidence. No words could describe how she felt when she reached Rivendell.

The Last Homely House was just as exquisite and beautiful as she remembered it. Rushing waterfalls and luscious greenery. Open chambers and flowering gardens. The Elf was deprived of proper food and she had a thumping headache. It was dusk when she arrived, the sun lowering to the horizon. She let out a sigh of relief and began to walk, keeping her eyes on the stunning Elven village.

 

The Lord of Imladris sat at his desk, pouring over a letter that he had received from Lady Melda. It contained information about the battle at Gundabad. The legions of Orcs and the deaths of many loyal Elven soldiers. But what shocked Elrond the first time that he had read it was that Queen Eletha had also perished. He had liked the royal elleth very much. She had a gentle heart but also had a fierce personality that was uncommon in ellith. _Why did Thranduil even allow her to go?_ He asked himself. But it was a question that only Thranduil could answer. Elrond would ask him the next time he saw him. He remembered showing Eletha the vision that he had had of her at Gundabad. _It looks like my vision actually came true._ He thought.

Lord Elrond placed the letter down on his desk and sat back in his head, resting his left hand on his forehead. _Queen Eletha is dead._ He had not seen her many times during the time that he had known her but she had been a big presence. She had been an exceptional warrior and a perfect Queen. She had given the King of the Woodland Realm two children who would further the family line. Elrond knew how Thranduil was feeling. He himself had lost his wife many centuries ago. He remembered the immense grief and pain that he had felt when she left the world. But he had his three children to help pull him out of his sorrow. He hoped that Thranduil would do the same and keep his children close. It was his best chance of surviving his grief. A knock on the door made him mumble in frustration.

“What is it?”

“My lord! My lord! You must come quickly!” Lindir’s voice shouted, echoing over the pure marble walls.

“Why?”

“There is an elleth, my lord! She is weak! She is injured! She needs help!”

Lord Elrond looked up and gripped the arms of his extravagant chair, rising to his feet. He walked across his chambers and opened the door to find a wide-eyed Lindir.

“What elleth?” Elrond asked.

“I do not know. I saw her come down the path and then she just collapsed. Please come, my lord.” Lindir panted, his dark hair held back by a bronze circlet. Elrond pressed his lips together and left his chambers, shutting the door behind him. He and Lindir then rushed across the walkways and paths down to the main courtyard. Lord Elrond was somewhat…shocked to say the least. There indeed was an elleth, her limbs splayed out on the stone ground. She was thin and dirt had built up under her fingernails. Blood crusted on her knuckles and her green travelling tunics were dirty, some areas soaked in dried red blood. A broken bow lay at her side and a quiver sat on her back, only filled with four or five arrows. From what he could see, she was still alive. She was breathing but slowly. Arwen and three other Elves stood around the injured elleth, clearly astounded. Lord Elrond stepped past Lindir and his daughter and knelt down next to the barely-breathing elleth. He inspected her wounds, his fingertips ghosting over the infected gash on her right calf. The burn on her right upper arm would be easy to heal but the gash would not be. It was inflamed and had caused her to have blood poisoning. That would take longer to heal. But Elrond was one of the most powerful healers in Middle-Earth. He would heal her, even though he did not know her.

“Where did she come from?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of the elleth.

“We do not know, my lord. But there is something else you should see.” Lindir said. Elrond looked up at his loyal subject, his dark eyes curious.

“What?”

“Over here, _Adar_.” Arwen answered, taking her father by surprise. The other Elves parted as Lord Elrond rose his feet. Arwen turned around and pointed at the ground, her wavy black hair cascading to her waist. Elrond followed his daughter’s finger and his gaze fell upon five words that were carved into the stone floor.

_DO NOT TELL THE KING_

Elrond narrowed his eyes and his eyebrows creased in confusion. He did not know what the words meant. _How does this elleth know the King? Has she come from Greenwood?_ Those were questions that could only be answered when the elleth awoke. He turned back around to stare at the elleth lying on the ground. He saw that she held a dagger in her right hand, its blade a little blunt. _She used that to carve the words into the stone._ He said to himself. Elrond walked back over to her and knelt beside her, his beige and gold robes pooling around him. The elleth had beautiful chocolate brown hair that fell past her waist, covering her face. It was matted and tangled, a few leaves stuck to some strands. Elrond also saw that on her left hand was a ring. And from the design of it, he knew that it was a wedding ring. But the shocking thing was that Lord Elrond recognised the ring. He had seen a certain elleth wear it. _But it cannot be._ He thought. He tentatively reached out his hand and moved the hair off of the elleth’s face. The Elves around him gasped as his eyes widened.

“Impossible.” He whispered. Her face was pale underneath streaks of black and red blood. Her eyes were closed but he knew their true colour. Lord Elrond could not believe it. He could believe that she was real. But it was her. It was Queen Eletha.

 

**

 

The bottle was almost finished. There was just a sliver of red wine left. The King saw that he was on his third bottle and he had no plans of stopping. Downing copious of alcohol soothed him. Drowned out everything around him. He knew that his wife would be no short of angry at what he was doing. But she was not around anymore. He could do what he wanted. Alcohol did not kill Elves. And they had to drink a lot to get drunk. Thranduil was already half-drunk and his heartbeat had slowed a little bit. He felt like an empty shell. A meat-suit with nothing inside. He drained his goblet and poured the rest of the wine into it. He downed that in one gulp and then reached for the fourth bottle. He poured the red liquid into his goblet, filling it up almost to the rim. He was just about to take a sip when there was a knock on the door. Thranduil closed his eyes and took a large gulp of wine. He did not feel like answering the door. He did not want to talk to anyone. He was not in the mood. But a voice on the other side of the door said differently.

“Your Grace. It is Melda.”

Thranduil sighed. _Oh, Valar!_

“Your Grace. I am here too.”

_Valpantiel as well? I cannot handle two ellith right now. Especially two sisters._ The King’s mind was slow because of the alcohol but this. This he could not deal with at the moment. He sighed inwardly again and took another sip of wine, licking his lips, his mouth immediately salivating for more. Thranduil wanted nothing more than to be alone. He mourned more easily in private. He could display his true emotions without the worry of anyone watching. The King wanted to be free. He wanted peace.

“Thranduil, so help me, if you do not open this door right now, I will break it down!”

_Typical Melda._ He thought. Giving in, he rose from his chair and walked over to the double doors. He took one last deep death and opened the doors.

Lady Melda and Lady Valpantiel stood side-by-side, their eyes concerned yet truthful. Their straight golden hair poured down their backs to their waists, the golden glow from the lamps lighting up their perfect faces. They both looked beautiful in silk gowns, the skirts flowing freely around their legs. Valpantiel’s was a stunning dark silver and Melda’s was the colour of deep dark green, echoing the forest outside. But the glow from the lamps did not make their worried expressions disappear.

“I did not think you would open the door, my lord. I was ready to break it down.” Melda said, folding her arms seriously.

“That sounds like something you would do.” Thranduil responded. Melda raised an eyebrow at him. In normal circumstances, he would scold her. But here and now, he was acknowledging her threat. Valpantiel also noticed this and could see in his eyes how tired he was.

“Your Grace, are you drunk?” She asked.

“Not yet. But I am on my way there.” Thranduil responded, waving his hand around like a…drunk. Melda looked over his shoulder before returning her eyes to his piercing ones.

“May we come in?”

The King’s eyes darted between the two golden-haired sisters. He saw how desperate they were. He had considered them family for many centuries. He loved both of them very dearly. And right now, what they were going through, he could not refuse them a simple demand.

“Yes, you may.” Thranduil gave them a soft smile and moved to the side to allow the ellith inside. Valpantiel had been inside his chambers many times, considering she was the King’s personal healer. Melda, on the other hand, had only been inside a handful of times. Nothing had changed. The bed was still intact and a new mirror had been installed, replacing the one that the King had broken. The only difference was that there were four large glass bottles of red wine. And three of them were empty. Thranduil closed the door and walked past the sisters, moving slowly. Valpantiel stared at him in shock.

“Your Grace, you must stop drinking.”

“Thranduil, Vally. My name is Thranduil.” He said, plonking himself back in his seat and grabbing his goblet in his right hand. He raised it to his lips and took a nice long sip. He sighed and closed his eyes, falling into a deep state of relaxation. But Melda and Valpantiel were far from the feeling of being relaxed. Yes, they had seen the King drunk before but only at festivals and gatherings. There he was a happy drunk. But now, his drunken character was nothing but sadness. The sisters glanced at each other and then, Valpantiel spoke again.

“Thranduil, you must stop drinking.”

The King opened his eyes groggily, their sharpness fading. His lips were stained red and his face was pale, paler than usual.

“Why?” He slurred, waving his goblet around, miraculously not spilling any wine. The ellith could not believe what they were hearing. The person sitting before them was not their King. Alcohol had changed his demeanour completely. Melda decided to respond this time. She stepped forward and rested her hands on the desk, her golden hair streaming over her shoulders.

“Because you have to. Because we do not want you to get hurt.”

“What are you talking about? I am in no danger. I am in my chambers with guards outside.” Thranduil said.

“Say that to Tarrol.” Melda spoke bluntly. Thranduil’s eyes snapped up, suddenly wide and surprised. _That did something._ She said to herself. The two of them just stared at each other for a few moments, not speaking. Melda loved the King. She really did. She thought of him as a brother. She had known him for over 1,000 years. To see him in this state was like seeing a family member that was deeply wounded. But not physically. Emotionally.

“Have you forgotten that you were poisoned?” Melda asked.

“Of course I haven’t.”

“Then how can you say that you are in no danger? You are the _King_. You are _always_ in danger. You have to be protected. That is why you have guards. That is why you have me and my sister.”

Valpantiel stepped up to stand next to her sister, folding her arms.

“Melda is right, Thranduil. We are here to protect you from harm.” She said worriedly. As a healer, it was Valpantiel’s job to heal, cure and protect. Just like her sister, she saw the King as a brother. She had known him for as long as Melda did. She had been so grateful when he had named her his personal healer. To acquire a position like that was an honour for any Elf, even for the highborn Elves. But she could also fight and had proved her worth at the battle at Gundabad. Even though it was her job to protect the King, it was what she _wanted_ to do, even if it was needed or not. Thranduil looked at the two sisters and could not help but feel the same emotions that they were feeling.

“I know. I know you are here to protect and I am grateful. But right now, I feel like I do not need protecting.” He said.

“Is that you or the wine talking?” Valpantiel asked. Before Thranduil could respond, Melda reached over and took the goblet from his hands. The liquid sloshed about but once again, it did not spill. Thranduil and Valpantiel stared at Melda in surprise.

“What do you think you are doing, Melda?” The King said menacingly, not a hint of warmth in his deep voice. The golden-haired elleth did not answer and simply drained the goblet of wine without any hesitation. Valpantiel’s lips parted in shock as her sister let out a gasp, the alcohol spreading through her body. Melda placed the empty goblet on the desk and lowered her head, letting the wine consume her. She could not bring herself to look at Thranduil. What she had just done was rude and disrespectful. No-one would dare take a goblet full of wine out of the King’s hands. Everyone knew that King Thranduil loved his wine. But as humans say, don’t we all?

“Melda. Look at me.”

His voice was not harsh like she had expected. Instead, it was soothing and gentle. Melda raised her head and her eyes fell upon the King. His expression matched the tone of his voice. His eyes were soft yet weary. He looked like he needed a good night’s sleep.

“I am sorry, Thranduil. I just…I want you to stop drinking. It will do nothing to heal your pain. Alcohol makes things worse.”

Thranduil knew that she was right. The alcohol only numbed the pain for a short while but in the morning, his heart was torn apart again. He knew that it was not what Eletha would have wanted. He needed to be strong. He had always told that to her but had never told himself that. He now was. _I must be strong._ The King looked at Valpantiel and their eyes locked for a moment. He returned his gaze to Melda and placed one of his hands over hers. Melda did not see a King that was formidable and intimidating. Instead, she saw a King that was vulnerable and caring.

“You are right, Melda. I know it will do nothing but I drink because my mind tells me to. I drink because I am staring down eternity alone. And it scares me.” Thranduil said.

“Thranduil, you are not alone.” Valpantiel said in her angelic voice, fraught with worry and grief.

“Vally is right, Thranduil. You are not alone. You will never be alone. I will be here. My sister will be here. We will stand by your side forever.” Melda added, her violet eyes shining with tears. Valpantiel felt tears spring in her own eyes but they did not fall, turning her irises into glittering blue crystals. Melda felt Thranduil’s hand give hers a squeeze and she smiled at him gently. The King slowly rose from his chair and steadied himself on his feet. He let go of Melda’s hand and walked around his desk, keeping his eyes to hers. Then, he hugged her. It took Melda only a second to register what was happening. He needed comfort. He needed touch. The elleth closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Thranduil, one around his torso and the other around his neck. Valpantiel watched on as her sister and the King relaxed into a comforting and warm embrace. Melda tightened her hold on him, her fingers moving through his silken hair. Thranduil closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair. This is what he had missed. Assuring embraces and calmative voices. Melda could not hold her tears in anymore and let them flow down her cheeks, creating shiny lines in their wake. Thranduil felt her tremble in his arms and he only hugged her more tightly. He opened his eyes and a tear fell down his cheek. He looked at Valpantiel and held out of his arm to her. The golden-haired healer raised her eyebrows at him, wondering what he was doing. His eyes gave her the answer that she needed. Valpantiel stepped forward and Thranduil wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into the embrace.

Melda welcomed Valpantiel in and placed her left around her younger sister as Valpantiel did the same, her arm around going around Thranduil’s back. The King suddenly felt loved. He had two ellith in his arms. Two ellith that he thought of as his younger sisters. He wanted to protect them just as much as they wanted to protect him. They buried their faces into his chest, both of them holding him close. He kissed their foreheads gently and closed his eyes, thankful for their consolation.

“ _Diola lle_ , _lirimaerea_. Thank you for everything.” He whispered as more tears streamed down his faces, matching those of the ellith that he was embracing.

 

Elvish Translations

  * adar – father

  * melamin – my love

  * Namaarie – Farewell

  * mellonea – friends

  * Adar – Father

  * Diola lle – Thank you

  * lirimaerea – lovely ones




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Eletha is alive!!! I couldn’t bear to actually kill her :P Anyway, tell me your thoughts. Bombard me with them! Are you surprised? Happy? Shocked? I also wanted to explore the relationship that Thranduil had with his father so that’s why I put the flashback scene in. There’s not much written about Oropher so I interpreted it in my own way :) And what do you guys think about Eletha’s dream? Interesting, huh? Bit emotional with Thranduil and the sisters right? So much emotion! Anyway, this chapter was inspired by ‘The Grace of Undómiel’ by Howard Shore and I’ll see you next week!


	5. Evil Spreads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Greenwood Forest is becoming sick with a strange dark ailment. Valpantiel visits Radagast and the two find out that the cause of the ill forest is something far more terrible than they could have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I was blown away with the response on the previous chapter! Your comments lit up my day so I hope that you keep them coming!! The fortress of Dol Guldur appears in this chapter and also, I don’t know Black Speech so the English in italics, just imagine the language of Black Speech being spoken. Another time jump (5 years) and extremely long chapter, 12,000+ words, hope you like it! :)

5 years later

 

The stocks of Athelas were low again. It was the most usable plant to heal cuts, gashes and stab wounds so it made sense that it was the plant that ran out most often. Valpantiel saw that there was only one bundle left and she deduced that she needed to get more. She placed the bundle back on its shelf and grabbed a hand-woven basket from the floor.

“Lucile! I am just going out to get some more Athelas. We are running low.” She called and heard the other healer call back an “OK”. Valpantiel made sure that she had her two knives strapped to her waist, her fingers gliding over the vine-engraved scabbards. She pushed the golden strands of her hair out of her face and left the healing chambers, her blue gown trailing out behind her. One of the perks of being the King’s personal healer was that she could still wear her beautiful gowns while all the others had to wear plain healing dresses. But being a healer was not glamorous. It was only the healers that saw the true extent of the horrors from injuries procured from battles and warfare. But there was a reason why Valpantiel had decided to be a healer. There were actually two reasons: one of them was because she loved to help and heal people. She hated seeing anyone in pain. And the other reason was because her mother was a healer. Valpantiel had looked up to her from a very young age. She loved her very dearly, she still did. When she and Melda had decided to move to Greenwood, she remembered the look of sadness on her mother’s face. But both sisters wanted to see where their father had been raised and lived his whole life. As Valpantiel walked out of the palace through the front gate, her mind flashed back to when she met Thranduil for the first time.

 

_She had never seen such huge magnificence. The Greenwood Palace was absolutely massive, way larger than Rivendell. Valpantiel sat in front of her sister on a light brown mare. Melda was 52 years old and had the appearance of a 17-year-old human girl. Valpantiel was a little younger, verging on 26 years, giving her the appearance of an 11-year-old. Two guards, one for each golden-haired Elf, rode on either side of the mare, Melda holding its reins tightly as they advanced across the bridge, the water rushing below them. They were met by two ellyn, one had dark hair and the other had pale blonde hair. Valpantiel felt her throat go cold and she thought that she had lost the ability to swallow. Both ellyn were undeniably attractive, with shining eyes and perfect pale skin. Melda halted the mare and dismounted. The Elven guards stayed on their horses, their feet hooked into the stirrups. Melda reached up her arms and Valpantiel placed her hands on her older sister’s shoulders. Melda grabbed Valpantiel under the armpits and pulled her off the mare, lowering her to the ground gently. Both of them straightened out their dresses and turned to face the two ellyn._

_“Welcome, Lady Melda and Lady Valpantiel, to the Woodland Realm. I am Maeklin and I present to you, King Oropher of Greenwood the Great.” The dark-haired ellon stated, gesturing to the taller ellon with pale blonde hair that stood beside him. The King was both masculine and beautiful. His face had the most glorious bone structure and his eyes were the brightest piercing blue. He was garbed in the most expensive and stunning clothing, silver and blue robes covering his tall muscular figure. A pointed branch crown sat on his head, adorned with red berries and small autumn leaves. He was the definition of royalty._

_Melda and Valpantiel curtsied at the same time, their long straight golden hair pouring over their shoulders. Valpantiel had never felt so nervous. Here she was at a place that she had hardly any knowledge of, meeting people that she had never known. She raised her eyes and stared at the King. It was impossible to look at him, he was so perfect. An imaginary light surrounded him, illuminating him, drawing people, like Valpantiel, in._

_“Creoso a'baramin, melloneamin. It is a pleasure to meet you, my dears. I have heard much about you from your father.” Oropher said gently, his eyes soft._

_Baeldron had been a strong warrior that had always been praised for his skill and bravery in battle. Valpantiel looked up at her older sister whose eyes were shining with tears. Valpantiel did not share the same sadness that Melda had because Valpantiel had never met her father. He had died before she had been born._

_“I am sorry for your loss, little ones. I knew Baeldron very well. He was a formidable soldier and had been very good friends with my son, the prince. He is the one that is most upset here about Baeldron’s passing.” Oropher stated in the same gentle tone, his voice incredibly deep._

_“Where is the prince?” Valpantiel asked. She immediately regretted asking that question and covered her mouth with her hands. Stupid, Vally! Why did you do that? She cursed herself. She lowered her blue eyes to the ground, afraid of what the King’s reaction was._

_“He was supposed to be here to welcome you, my dear. Obviously, he thinks bedding an elleth is more important.” Oropher’s voice turned dark and intimidating. Valpantiel felt Melda’s arm circle her shoulder, rubbing her upper arm in a comforting manner. Lord Elrond had told the golden-haired sisters about the prince and his rebellious behaviour but they wanted to meet him anyway. Along with tales of his actions were tales of his beauty. It was said that any elleth that looked upon him, he bedded that night. There were tales that he drugged them with a love potion that was within his saliva and bedded them with easiness because the elleth was under a powerful love spell. But the_ _prince had not found love. It was just lust, power and infatuation. But Valpantiel or Melda were not interested in that. They only wished to gaze upon him for a second._

_“My loyal steward will take you to your chambers. I hope you live a happy life here, little ones.” King Oropher smiled and turned around, disappearing inside the palace. The two guards bid farewell to the Rivendell inhabitants and trotted back across the bridge, back into the forest. Two stable hands appeared and took the light brown mare to the stables, leaving the sisters and Maeklin alone at the front gate._

_“Follow me, my ladies.” The dark-haired ellon said and led Melda and Valpantiel into the Greenwood Palace. The moment Valpantiel walked one step past the gate, her mouth dropped open._

_The palace was absolutely huge and beautiful. It was open and enormous pale trees were carved into thick columns. Arching walkways and railing-free paths stretched out across the entire palace, twisting and turning. Lamps hung from the ceiling, irradiating the palace in a golden hue. Flamed torches sat on the stone walls, flickering softly. Valpantiel’s eyes scanned the area that seemed to stretch on forever in front of her. It was completely different to Rivendell, more underground and everything was a little darker. But that did not detract from its beauty. Valpantiel felt Melda grab her hand but she did not look at her sister. She was too engrossed in the palace’s glory._

_Maeklin led them across coiling walkways, waterfalls cascading down to the dark abyss below. They passed many doors and rooms, the evening sunlight streaming in from large holes in the ceiling. After about six minutes, Maeklin stopped in front of a door covered with simple vine engravings._

_“These are your chambers, Lady Melda. And Lady Valpantiel, yours are just there.” The steward said and pointed to another door about five metres away from Melda’s on the same wall._

_“They are joined chambers. There is a door inside that connects your chambers together. His Grace thought you two wanted to be quite close to each other to start off with.” Maeklin explained with a smile that reached his dark eyes._

_“We will be sure to thank him, my lord.” Melda said, bowing her head._

_“I am no lord, my Lady. Maeklin will be just fine.” The steward smiled again._

_“Thank you, Maeklin.” Melda smiled back and curtsied, gesturing for Valpantiel to do the same. Maeklin handed each of the ellith a key and bowed his head, disappearing around the corner. Valpantiel clutched the key in her hands and smiled to herself. This place will be my home. I cannot wait to call this place home. She thought._

_“I will see you inside, little sister.” Melda smiled and unlocked her own door, going inside her chambers. Valpantiel gulped and walked over to where her door was. But she never reached it. She bumped into what she thought was another ellon, causing her to fall over and land on the cold stone floor._

_“Watch where you are going!” A deep voice shouted irritably. Valpantiel felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she held the key close to her chest. She finally plucked up the courage to raise her eyes to the ellon that she had bumped into. He sure was beautiful, just like any ellon. His skin was pale and as perfect as smooth marble. Dark thick eyebrows framed stunning bright ice-blue eyes, sending daggers into Valpantiel’s mind. His hair was very long, silken and straight, the colour of pale blonde. His muscular body was clothed in a forest green tunic and black leggings with knee-high leather boots on his feet. Valpantiel did not need to ask his name to know who he was. The resemblance between King Oropher and the ellon in front of her was irrefutable. The ellon standing before Valpantiel was none other than Prince Thranduil._

_It was true what the tales had said. He was so beautiful. Valpantiel did not know if any elleth could refuse those eyes and those perfect lips. His expression was not soft like his father’s. It was full of frustration and annoyance._

_“Who are you?” Thranduil asked, his eyes frightening the living daylights out of Valpantiel. She struggled to find her voice but managed to choke out an answer._

_“I am Valpantiel. I have come from Rivendell. My father was Baeldron.”_

_She saw the prince’s eyes widen. Obviously only the last sentence had an effect on Thranduil. Valpantiel placed her hands on the floor and tried to heave herself up but winced in pain. She looked at her hands to see that her skin was bright pink from her scraping her palms on the stone pathway. She bit her lip and felt tears well up in her eyes. I am so weak. I am crying from falling over. Valar, what would Melda say? I hate to think. Valpantiel ranted inside her head. To her complete shock, the prince bent his knees and lowered himself down to her height._

_“Let me see your hands.”_

_Valpantiel stared at him, her eyes huge with surprise. She quickly realised that she was looking at him for too long. He was the prince and she had to obey his command. She held out her hands to him and he gingerly took them in his own large ones. He gently ran his fingertips over her raw skin, his touch as soft as a feather._

_“You are fine, tithen pen. I apologise for scaring you.”_

_Valpantiel was so surprised. One moment, he was aggravated and harsh. And now, he was sweet and his voice was incredibly soothing._

_“No, no! Do not apologise, my prince! It was my fault. I did not see where I was going. I did not mean to annoy you.” Valpantiel spluttered out in a couple of breaths, her heart pounding as loud as a drum. She was sure that the prince could hear it, it felt that loud. Thranduil’s eyes turned soft and_ _he tenderly took hold of her small wrists in his hands. He helped the golden-haired elfling to her feet, careful not to touch her scraped skin._

_“Thank you, my prince.” Valpantiel said, looking up at him. He was so tall and her neck immediately began to cramp. Oropher was not as tall as his son but he was only a couple of inches of him. Valpantiel realised how small she was, her head coming up to only his waist. Thranduil let go of her wrists and Valpantiel reached down to pick up her key._

_“Baeldron was your father?” The prince asked. Valpantiel looked up at him and nodded. She saw his face soften and turn into one that held the emotion of grief. He sighed and lowered him down to the floor again, turning his back to the wall. He leaned his head against it, his eyelashes fluttering._

_“He was one of my best friends. I loved him like a brother. We fought together. We ate together. We got drunk together.” Thranduil smirked, making Valpantiel give him a small smile. Hearing how close her father had been to the prince made her feel even more upset in never knowing him._

_“We did almost everything together. I considered him the brother that I never had. I called him “my brother from another mother” and he called me the same. I remember when he told me that he had been gifted with a daughter. Your sister, right?”_

_“Yes, my older sister, Melda.” Valpantiel nodded._

_“Where is she?”_

_“In her chambers just over there.” Valpantiel answered, pointing at her sister’s chamber door._

_“My father told me that you two were going to live here, just like Baeldron. Is that true?” Thranduil asked._

_“Yes, my prince. I love it here already.” Valpantiel smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She turned her gaze back to Thranduil to see that he was staring at her very intently, like he was searching her body for something._

_“Is something wrong, my prince?” Valpantiel questioned, her voice squeaky and high-pitched from nervousness._

_“No, nothing. It is just…you look so much like him.”_

_The elfling lowered her head and blushed again, her small fingers curling around the key. She wanted to hide behind her hair. She wanted to go into her chambers and be alone. The prince of Greenwood just complimented me! Me! She thought, a small smile spreading across her pink lips. She sighed and returned her eyes to Thranduil._

_“I never met my father. I never knew him. I have only heard stories about him from my mother, sister and Lord Elrond. The only way I know what he had looked like is people saying how much I look like him. Like you just said, my prince.”_

_“You have his eyes. They are the exact same colour.” Thranduil smiled, his pale blonde hair lying across his broad shoulders perfectly. His left leg was bent at the knee and close to his chest, his hand resting upon his knee while his right leg stretched out in front of him. His pose was like that of a statue. He looked like he was modelling for a painter. He probably already does that anyway. Valpantiel said to herself._

_“What is your name again, little one?” The prince asked._

_“Valpantiel, my prince. But my sister calls me Vally quite a lot.”_

_“May I call you Vally?”_

_“You may call me anything you like, my prince.” Valpantiel said._

_“Between you and me, Vally, you can call me Thranduil. We are given names for a reason: to be called by them.” Thranduil stated eloquently, his eyebrows rising over his crystalline blue eyes. Valpantiel smiled widely, the first time that she had done in his presence. Thranduil groaned and got to his feet._

_“It was wonderful to meet you, Vally. I apologise for not coming to greet you at the front gate. I was…busy.” Thranduil said, a faint blush serenading his fair cheeks. Oh, Valar! Is he blushing? The prince of Greenwood blushing? Valpantiel asked herself but dismissed her thoughts straightaway._

_“That is OK, Thranduil. A prince must have many things to attend to in his day. Actually, I was glad to meet you under these circumstances. It gave me a chance to talk to you.” Valpantiel declared with confidence._

_“You speak very assertively for a young elfling. How old are you?” Thranduil asked._

_“I am turning 26 next summer.”_

_“So young. And intelligent. But very adorable at the same time.” The prince smiled down at her. Valpantiel felt her cheeks flush again but kept her eyes to his._

_“I guess I should leave you now to get used to your new accommodation. And I have to see my father. I must ready myself for another scolding. Wish me luck, Vally.” Thranduil smiled at her again, his eyes glittering with the same bliss._

_“Good luck, Thranduil. I hope your father does not scold you too badly.”_

_“I will survive, little one. I am sure that I will see a lot of you in the coming days. Namaarie, my new friend.” Thranduil said and walked past the elfling, vanishing around the corner. Valpantiel smiled to herself. She already liked the prince very much. He seemed like a friendly ellon. The great thing was that he did not look down upon her like she was trash. He treated her like she was his equal. Valpantiel knew that she was a Lady but she would never be a Queen or a princess. Only in her dreams did she acquire that high status._

_She walked to her chamber door and unlocked it with her new key. She opened the door and gasped at her new home. There was a large bed in the right-hand corner of the room, the white bed sheets folded neatly just below two large white pillows. There was a small chest of drawers next to the bed with a lamp on top. There was a wardrobe and a full-length mirror next_ _to it. There was also a separate restroom and a large window that allowed her to look out into Greenwood Forest. Valpantiel already loved her new home. It was beautiful. A door on the left-hand wall opened to reveal her older sister. So that is the adjoining door. Valpantiel said to herself._

_“Where have you been?” Melda asked. Valpantiel deliberated if she should tell her sister about her encounter with the prince. After a few seconds, she decided that that meeting with him was a private matter. She did not want anyone to know._

_“I have just been admiring my new chambers. Aren’t they wonderful, Melda?” Valpantiel grinned._

_“Yes, they are, little sister. Anyway, dinner is served in an hour. Come into my chambers then, OK?” Melda said. Valpantiel nodded and Melda closed the door, leaving her sister alone again. Valpantiel dropped the key on the floor and ran to the bed, jumping on it, giggling like she was a 2-year-old. Yes, I am definitely going to like it here. She thought, still thinking about her encounter with the prince._

 

Valpantiel remembered that evening as clear as day. That was the day when their bond had been created. She carried the hand-woven basket on her left arm while she held one of her sharp knives in her right hand. It was mid-morning and the sun was beaming down brightly, kissing each leaf with its light. Birds tweeted in the trees and a slight breeze ruffled Valpantiel’s long locks. She used one of the stone paths to guide her through the large forest. Having been a healer for many centuries now, she knew where the Athelas plant grew. After walking on the path for about ten minutes, she turned left and left the path behind her, going deep into the forest. Within seconds, she found a whole bunch of Athelas bushes. Valpantiel placed the basket on the ground and knelt down, her blue gown pooling out around her. She cut the stems from the roots, chucking them in the basket next to her.

Going out to collect Athelas reminded Valpantiel of all the time that she had done so with Eletha. She still mourned for the Queen. She had loved her just as much as Melda had. She still loved her even in death. Valpantiel and Eletha had shared a particular bond that Melda had not shared with the Queen. Valpantiel had brought both of the King’s children into the world and that sparked a close sororal bond. Every time she looked at either Legolas or Calarel, she remembered their small squirming bodies on the day that they were born. Valpantiel had watched them grow up from the second that they had come out from Eletha’s womb. She knew that Eletha would want Valpantiel to protect her children because she was the one who had known them for the longest (apart from Eletha herself and Thranduil).

Valpantiel finished cutting the Athelas and sheathed her knife. She sighed and got to her feet, hooking the basket on her left arm. She was just about to make her way back to the forest path when she saw something odd. The bush behind the Athelas was brown and sickly-looking. Valpantiel narrowed her eyes and reached down to touch the plant. Its leaves were hard and crackled under her touch. _That is strange. The plants never fall sick here._ She thought. Then, the leaves disintegrated in her hands and she gasped. _Forget sickness. This plant is dead._ Valpantiel said to herself. She peered further behind the dead plant to see an array of other plants that had the same sickly-looking appearance. They were all dead. Valpantiel turned around to discover that there were many more plants that were dead. _Oh, no!_ No-one liked seeing their home turn sick, no more than Valpantiel whose job was to prevent death, disease and sickness. The area also smelt like infection. Valpantiel did not know why she hadn’t smelt it before. But the stench was like nothing that she had ever smelt. It smelt like…evil. She caught taste it on her tongue. Pure evil and pure darkness. Valpantiel knew that this was not some simple disease. Something evil was going on. And she was determined to find out what. She blinked away tears and walked back to the forest path, racing back to the palace as quickly as she could.

Valpantiel dropped off the basket full of Athelas at the healing chambers without saying a word and immediately left the chambers. She needed to see the King. And she needed to see him now.

 

**

 

There were five rapid knocks on his door that made Thranduil feel worried. _Someone wants to see me desperately._ He said in his mind. He walked to the double doors and opened them to find an anxious-looking Valpantiel.

“My Lady, are you OK?” He asked.

“I need to speak to you. I mean…can I speak to you, Your Grace?” Valpantiel stuttered, her cheeks pink.

“Vally…calm down. Of course you can speak to me. Come in.” Thranduil said soothingly, moving to the side to allow her entrance into his lavish chambers. The King saying her nickname reassured her and calmed her down a little bit. Valpantiel nodded at him and walked inside before Thranduil shut the doors. Valpantiel halted in the middle of his chambers and began to pace up and down the stone floor, fiddling with her fingers. Thranduil stared at her, his expression full of concern and worry.

“Valpantiel, is something wrong?” He questioned, his voice fraught with trepidation, her eyes following her tight pacing.

“Uh, um, yes, Thranduil. Something is wrong. Something is _very_ wrong.” She answered hurriedly, still pacing up and down the large chambers. Thranduil folded his arms and stared at her. _What could be wrong? Has something happened? Has Melda or Tyaeron been hurt? My children? Has it got to do with them?_ The King’s mind went crazy. He hated when people stalled in talking. It made him even more anxious.

“Stop pacing, Vally, and tell me what is wrong.” He said to the golden-haired healer. Valpantiel stopped pacing immediately and looked at him with her sky-blue eyes. He saw that they had tears in them. And that did not help his anxiety at all.

“Valpantiel. Please tell me what is wrong.” He demanded, not raising the tone of his voice. Valpantiel sucked in a breath and stared at the King.

“Thranduil. The forest is sick.”

The King did not know what to make of Valpantiel’s answer. He decided that he needed more information. Valpantiel knew from the look on his face that he wanted her to elaborate. So she did.

“But it is not just an ordinary sickness. There is something…off about it. I smelt evil, Thranduil. An evil that has not spread through these lands in a very long time.”

The King’s eyes narrowed and his thick eyebrows furrowed over his bright eyes. His forest had never fallen sick. It was his father who founded the Greenwood Palace over 3,000 years ago and the forest had never gotten sick. Ever. But he then realised the true meaning behind Valpantiel’s words. _An evil that has not spread through these lands in a very long time._ Thranduil knew exactly what evil she was talking about. But it was impossible.

“You cannot possibly mean what I think you mean.” He said to her.

“There is no other explanation, Thranduil. It takes great power to cause the Greenwood Forest to be sick. What do you think would do that? Or should I say, _who_ do you think would do that?” Valpantiel stated worriedly.

“Valpantiel, the Dark Lord was destroyed almost 3,000 years ago. Before your time. Before _my_ time. He can never regain his full strength.”

“He will. The more power he has, the more sick the forest will grow.”

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Thranduil asked.

“Not we. Me.” Valpantiel said bluntly.

The King stared at her, his eyes widening even further. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his face contorting in shock.

“What do you mean?”

“I wish to visit Radagast and find out what the true cause of Greenwood’s ailment is.” Valpantiel said with no hesitation, not taking her eyes off the King. Thranduil unfolded his arms and stepped up to the healer, staring at her in concern.

“Are you crazy?” He gasped.

Valpantiel opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Of course she was worried about going. She was worried that the King was worried about her going. She closed her mouth and lowered her eyes to the floor in infamy. Thranduil placed one of his ring-encircled hands under her chin and made her raise her eyes to his.

“I do not want you to go because I fear for your safety, Valpantiel. You should know by now how much I care for you. Do you really think I am just going to let my best healer leave the palace?” The King spoke gently as tears welled up in the elleth’s eyes. She raised her hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, almost in reassurance.

“I care for you too, Thranduil. That is why I must go. Don’t you want to know who is causing your forest to be sick? Don’t you want to know why?” Valpantiel asked. Thranduil contemplated about her question, his fingers stroking her chin. Their sparkling blue eyes locked to one another, never breaking contact.

“Of course I want to know who and why. But I will not put you in the firing line. It happened with…the Queen. I will not make the same mistake again.”

Valpantiel could see how frightened he really was. The look in his eyes told her everything. She knew that the King loved her like a sister and wanted to protect her but Valpantiel understood that sometimes risks must be taken. And this was one.

“If I do not go, then who will? As you said, I am the best healer here. I love this forest just as much as you do. It is my home. And I want to know who is destroying my home and why. Please let me go.” Valpantiel begged, staring into his eyes, her own welling up with fresh tears. Thranduil did not want to let her go. He wanted her to stay. If what she said about the Dark Lord was true, then her life would be in danger. _What if he has returned and something happens to her? What if she never comes back?_ He asked himself. Valpantiel was not just his personal healer. She was also one of his chief advisors. She had counselled him many times over the years. And Thranduil was an advisor to Valpantiel. The amount of times that she had asked him for advice, she did not know. There were too many to count. Valpantiel knew from the look on the King’s face that he was advising her not to go. To stay in the palace and away from harm. But there were times when Valpantiel had to ignore his counsel. And this was one of those times. It was their best option. At the moment, it was their best option. Valpantiel released her fingers from around his wrist and placed her hand on his cheek, giving him a small pint of solace.

“Please, Thranduil. Please let me do this for you and our home.”

The King moved his hand from her chin to her face, gently wiping away the tears that had begun to run down her fair cheeks. When Thranduil looked at Valpantiel, he thought of Baeldron. His “brother from another mother.” He could see so much of him in her. But at the same time, he could also see Ilyrana in her. She had inherited her father’s personality but had followed in her mother’s footsteps in terms of her occupation. Valpantiel truly was her parents’ daughter.

“Your father speaks through you, Vally.” Thranduil smiled softly, his heart swelling with deep emotion. Valpantiel returned his smile and her hand dropped onto his shoulder, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“Do you remember the day we first met?” She asked.

“Of course I do. That’s a memory that I hold very dear.” Thranduil said.

“You told me that you loved Baeldron like a brother. That you did almost everything together. How much I looked like him. How adorable I was.” The golden-haired elleth giggled and Thranduil chuckled softly.

“You are not that little elfling I met all those centuries ago. You have grown into a strong Elf maiden, Valpantiel. But you still are adorable. You always will be. But…I know you are tough and you can look after yourself.”

Valpantiel looked up at him in anticipation as he took a step back and her hand fell away from his broad shoulder. Thranduil took a deep breath and spoke clearly

“So, I will allow you to visit Radagast. For three days only. If you are not back by then, I will come after you myself and look for you. Do you understand?”

Valpantiel’s lips parted in surprise as her eyes widened with shock. A smile crept over her pink mouth and she let out a teary laugh. She quickly stepped forward in Thranduil’s direction and threw her arms around his neck. The King smiled and returned her embrace, holding her tightly against his body. _If this is the last time I get to hug her, I’d better make it a good one._ He said to himself.

“Thank you, Thranduil. Thank you.” Valpantiel whispered, placing one of her hands in his silken pale blonde hair. The King buried his face in her golden hair, squeezing his eyes shut, determined to not let a tear fall. Valpantiel would miss the King greatly but this had to be done. She had left the palace before for half-a-year at a time and this was only a week. At least she hoped it would only be a week. This was a sensitive mission. And it was not just personal for Valpantiel. If she found out what was causing the Greenwood Forest to be sick, perhaps they could find a way to stop it and kill the infection. That would not just save Valpantiel’s life. It would save her sister’s. The Captain’s. The royal children’s. The King’s. Everybody’s lives. She was doing it to keep her people alive and safe. Finally, Valpantiel let go of the King and he released his hold on her, his large hands resting on her elbows.

“I shall leave now. I will reach Radagast’s before night falls.” The elleth stated, blinking up at the King. His hands gently tightened on her elbows as he stared deep into her sky-blue eyes.

“Be safe, my Lady.” Thranduil said, his voice getting teary. Valpantiel nodded and sniffled, letting a couple more tears fall down her cheeks.

“You too, my King. _Namaarie_.”

“ _Namaarie_ , _arwenamin_. My dear Vally.”

Valpantiel almost sobbed hysterically when he called her by her nickname. She managed to give him one more small smile and she raised herself up onto her tiptoes. Valpantiel placed her hand on his shoulder again as she pressed her lips to his cheek softly. Thranduil closed his eyes at the contact and took a deep breath. Valpantiel went back down to her normal height and without another word or a second glance, she left the chambers, her golden hair and blue gown swishing about her figure.

Thranduil remained still, his eyes on the open doors. He felt as though he had let his little sister go off and do something dangerous. He swallowed the lump in his throat and finally took a breath. He touched his cheek and remembered her sweet kiss. It was a kiss that a sister would give to her brother. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it all. It was a kiss born out of friendship and pure tenderness. Nothing more. Thranduil had seen her fought at the battle at Gundabad. She was just as ruthless as Melda. She could definitely defend herself. The idea of an old evil that was believed to be gone forever encroaching his realm did not only terrify Thranduil. It angered him. _I hope Valpantiel finds out what is truly happening to our home._ He thought. He walked over to the open doors and looked out across the palace. In the distance, he could see an elleth with golden hair rushing over a winding pathway to her chambers. _She will be back._ Thranduil said to himself, wanting to believe and having full faith that it was the truth. The King closed the double doors softly just as the tears he had held back for the past five minutes fell freely down his face.

 

**

 

Valpantiel entered her chambers and changed into more suitable clothing. She swapped her blue gown for one the colour of deep green and made from suede with brown leather legging underneath. She pulled on her knee-high leather boots and brushed her hair, pulling the top-half back in braids, letting some strands fall loose in front of her pointy ears. She was just strapping her knives at the small of her back when Melda burst into the chambers.

“Oh, Valar, Melda! You almost made me cut myself!” Valpantiel cried, securing the knives properly. Melda surveyed her younger sister’s appearance and her golden eyebrows furrowed.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Nowhere.”

“Nowhere, my ass! You hardly dress like this unless you are leaving the palace. You are leaving, aren’t you?”

“I have told no-one that. How do you know?” Valpantiel narrowed her eyes at her sister.

“I went to the healing chambers to look for you but Lucile said that you had gone to the King on urgent business. I did not want to interrupt your conversation with him. That is why I came to you now. So…what did you talk about?”

“Urgent business, Melda. It is none of your concern.”

“Of course it is! You are my sister. Don’t you remember that we promised to never keep secrets from each other?” Melda asked, folding her arms, the long pointed sleeves of her red gown falling to her knees. Valpantiel remembered when they made that promise. It was centuries ago when they were very young. It was when they were living back in Rivendell. It seemed like a distant memory now but it was still there in her mind like it never left.

“You are right. I am leaving the palace. It is not for long though.” Valpantiel said, straightening out her green dress.

“For how long? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?” Melda asked in a single breath, her eyes widening in worry.

“Calm down, Melda. I will probably be gone for three days at the longest. I am leaving because the forest is sick. But it is not an ordinary disease. It is something different so I’m visiting Radagast to see if we can find out the cause of the forest’s infection.” Valpantiel answered all three of her sister’s questions, making eye contact with her. Melda said nothing and just allowed her mind to process the information she had just been given. Never had she heard of the forest being infected or sick. It was a wonderland filled with greenery, light and woodland creatures. Elves valued nature very deeply. They shared a deep connection with their homeland. To Thranduil, the forest was like one of his children. He sought to look after it and protect it and keep it from harm, just like he did with his two children and loved ones. To hear that her home was sick broke Melda’s heart. _What could be the cause? I guess that is why Valpantiel is going to visit Radagast._ She said to herself. Valpantiel was her little sister. One of the many people that she would die for if need be. Because they lived with neither of their parents, Melda took on the role of ‘mother’, even though Valpantiel sometimes abhorred it. Whenever she left the palace, Melda was always constantly worried, as an older and therefore viciously protective sister would be. And this was one of those times.

“I want to come with you.” Melda stated, her tone serious and certain.

“No, Melda. This is something that I plan to do on my own. And I will have Radagast with me.” Valpantiel said.

“The Brown Wizard. Who eats too many mushrooms which has always worried me. They have befuddled his mind, I am sure of it.”

“I know that he is an odd character but he has taught me so many magical healing spells and remedies that I have used to treat people for more than 1,000 years. He is smart and with him, I can figure out what is behind this disease.” Valpantiel responded confidently. _And **who** is behind this disease._

“Well, at least allow me to escort you to Radagast’s, Vally. Protect you on the road.” Melda demanded.

“Again, my answer is no. Stay here with the King. He would be distraught if you left even for twelve hours. Look after Legolas and Calarel too. As I said, I will only be gone three days. I have been away for far longer than that before, Melda.”

“I worry about you, Valpantiel.”

“You always worry about me.”

“Because it is my job to! You are my little sister, for Valar’s sake! I _need_ to protect you, no matter what.”

Valpantiel pressed her pink lips together and stepped up to her sister, placing her delicate hands on her arms.

“Melda, dear sister, listen to me. I am a grown elleth and I can look after myself. You do not have to spend every waking hour of your life fretting about me. I may be younger than you but I am no less stronger than you. Sometimes, I must do things on my own. This is one of them.”

The violet eyes stared into the sky-blue ones, both glittering like different coloured crystals. Melda understood what Valpantiel was saying and she knew that it was the truth. She was not Ilyrana. She was not Valpantiel’s mother and it had been many centuries since Valpantiel had reached full maturity. Melda lowered her head in defeat.

“I understand.” She whispered. Valpantiel could clearly see how anxious her sister was and she knew that she had good reason to be. Valpantiel was also anxious about her trip because it was not just a simple visit to Radagast’s. It was bigger than that. Valpantiel wrapped her arms around Melda’s shoulders and hugged her, her hands feeling the smoothness of her hair. Melda locked her arms around her sister’s body and returned her hug, closing her eyes. Melda held back her tears and swallowed deeply. The two sisters stood there for a minute, fastened in each other’s tight hold. Both of them broke the embrace at the same time, their arms falling away from each other.

“Just be careful, _tithen gwanun_.” Melda said as Valpantiel stood up, her green gown falling about her ankles.

“I am no dilettante, Melda. I know what I am doing and I know what I have to do. What I _need_ to do.” Valpantiel gave her sister a genuine reassuring smile. She kissed her temple sweetly, her hand on Melda’s shoulder.

“I shall see you in three days. Goodbye, _gwanun_.” Valpantiel whispered and grabbed her matching cloak before leaving her living quarters, heading to the healing chambers to pack some essentials oils and plants.

 

**

 

The stables were filled with horses, snorting and tucking into their lunch. Valpantiel reached Syviis’s stables and smiled when she saw the mare raise its head. After the Queen’s passing, Thranduil had allowed Valpantiel to own Syviis. He thought that that was what Eletha would want and it was a way to honour her memory. Valpantiel opened the stable door and gave the horse a pat on the neck.

“ _Quel andune_ , _mellon-nin_. Are you ready for a trip?” She asked as she began to saddle the horse up, reins and all. Syviis snorted in response as Valpantiel tied the bags of healing oils and plants to the saddle.

“Good girl.” She smiled and gave the mare a comforting stroke. Valpantiel quickly closed her eyes and made a vow to her dead friend. _I promise to look after her, my Queen. I will never let anything happen to her._ Valpantiel was sure that Eletha could hear her. She knew that the Queen was watching everybody from above, guiding them through life even though she was in death.

Valpantiel led Syviis out of the stables to the front gate. She mounted her, hooking her feet into the stirrups and adjusting the cloak so it fell over Syviis’s back. Valpantiel took the reins in her hands, bid one last farewell to the palace and kicked the horse’s sides, sending Syviis into a canter.

The forest was a blur of gold and green as she rode through it, her long hair flying out behind her. She could not imagine why someone or something would want to cause death and sickness to this beautiful place. But evil was evil for a reason. The darkness had begun to spread but as Eletha had always told her, there was always light to fight the dark. It was just a matter of who would win. It would take Valpantiel over four hours to reach Radagast’s house but that period of time was nothing to her. After about ten minutes, Valpantiel slowed Syviis to a trot, giving the horse a break and time to catch its breath. From this slow speed, Valpantiel saw, once again, dead plants and bushes, consumed by dry leaves and cold roots. _This is not meant to be._ She thought. But what confused Valpantiel was that sometimes, right next to a dead plant was a healthy one. The sickness was not attacking every single plant in its sight. The question was why. Valpantiel was determined to find out the answer to that question as well. One question led to another and it only frustrated Valpantiel further.

She wondered how Radagast was faring. It had been over a decade since she last saw him and strangely, she had missed him. Radagast and Valpantiel shared a particular bond because she was one of the only people in Middle-Earth that not only understood but accepted his methods and his out-of-the-box personality. He had taught her so many healing spells and remedies that she had used to cure and treat so many patients. Valpantiel owed many of the lives that she had saved to the Brown Wizard. Without him, she would not be the healer that she was now.

Luckily, the ride to Radagast’s was smooth and she was not attacked by anything or anyone. Radagast lived on the edge of Greenwood, a place where he could live in his life in peace. Valpantiel smiled when she saw his house come into view and she pulled on Syviis’s reins, slowing her to a simple walk. The sunlight streamed through the trees and lit up the shrubbery that surrounded Radagast’s house. Just as Valpantiel approached the house, the front door opened and the Brown Wizard appeared. He looked the same as always. Dressed in ragged and dirty brown robes and his beard and hair were messy and unkempt. A brown hat was on his head and he held a small staff in his hand. He stared at her with those blue eyes of his and his lips broke out into a smile, revealing his crooked teeth.

“Valpantiel, my dear! What a pleasant surprise!” He cried as he walked up to her. Valpantiel dismounted Syviis and kept her still by holding the reins.

“Hello, _mellon-nin_. It has been a long time.” She said, her smile mirroring Radagast’s.

“Indeed. What are you doing here?” The Brown Wizard asked. Valpantiel’s face morphed into one of worry and her fingers tightened around the mare’s reins. _How do I tell him? I know how much he cares for the forest. He loves it too. It is his home as well._ Her mind took a moment to gather its thoughts and turn them into words that could become sentences.

“Radagast, have you seen any dead plants recently?”

The question surprised and confused Radagast. He looked up at her and his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment, his lips curling into a thin line.

“No, I have not. Why would you ask such a thing, Valpantiel?”

The golden-haired elleth walked past Radagast and tied Syviis’s reins to a strong branch that was connected to the Brown Wizard’s house. She pulled on the reins to make sure that Syviis would not be able to get free. Valpantiel could feel Radagast’s eyes on her but she did not return his stare. She sighed and stroked Syviis’s neck, calming the horse down.

“Because the forest is sick, Radagast.” She finally said.

“What do you mean, my dear?”

Valpantiel locked her eyes to the Wizard’s eyes and she saw that his irises bore the same worry that hers did.

“When I went out this morning to collect some Athelas, I saw dead plants. And the atmosphere stunk of evil. And not just an ordinary evil.” She stated.

“I don’t think I follow, Valpantiel.” Radagast narrowed his eyes.

“The darkness has returned, Radagast. And _he_ is destroying our home to make it more habitable for his creatures and followers. We must do something.”

Radagast leaned on his staff and walked up to his Elven friend, his eyes now burdened with shock and perplexity.

“You cannot possibly mean what I think you mean.”

“King Thranduil said the exact same thing.” Valpantiel smiled gently.

“But…Valpantiel, my dear, who you speak of is gone. He was destroyed many centuries ago. He can’t be back.”

“I cannot think of another perpetrator, Radagast. Who do you know that would want to cause harm to this beautiful forest that so many people call home? Who would have the power and the will to do something like this? Does any other person come to your mind?”

Radagast merely stared at Valpantiel, taking in her hurried and frightened questions. He couldn’t think of anyone who would want to kill the Forest of Greenwood. At least not anyone good. It was such a beautiful place, full of life and light. It had been centuries since the forest had been riddled with darkness and evil, not since the Last Alliance.

“If what you say is true, Valpantiel, then what do you plan to do?” Radagast asked.

“I wish to discover the truth behind the forest’s sickness. Will you accompany me in this endeavour?” Valpantiel asked. Radagast stepped up to the elleth and took hold of her hand with his.

“I will, my dear.”

“ _Diola lle_ , Radagast. But we will wait until tomorrow at dawn.” Valpantiel squeezed the Wizard’s small hand before letting her fingers go. She stroked Syviis’s neck and let Radagast led her into his house.

 

**

 

Valpantiel was up at first light the next day and it took her at least three minutes to wake up Radagast from his deep sleep. The house itself was dark but streams of sunlight poured from the glass windows, the trees outside casting shadows within. After having something small to eat for breakfast, the elleth and the Wizard made their way outside. Valpantiel mounted Syviis, the healing essentials still in their packs on either side of the horse’s saddle, while Radagast got onto his rabbit-drawn sleigh. Valpantiel nodded at her friend and with that, they were off, heading South.

The sun was coming up over the horizon, sending a flash of orange and gold across the forest. The cool breeze was refreshing, whipping the braids in Valpantiel’s long golden hair around. Radagast kept his rabbits at a slow pace, matching that of Syviis’s canter. The leaves blowed it the wind, flashing green, gold and orange. Both Radagast and Valpantiel spotted dead plants as they made their way through the shrubbery and the Brown Wizard was shocked. This had been his home ever since he had been sent down from above. He loved the forest as much as the Elves did. He remembered the day he had met Valpantiel. She had only just reached full maturity and was still a child in his eyes, considering how much more powerful he was. Radagast had fallen in love with Valpantiel (as a friend) from the day he laid his eyes on her. He admired her passion for healing and her beautiful relationship with nature. She shared all of the same views and values that he did and he had been more than happy to teach her his methods, if they should ever come in handy in the future. The dead plants flashed past him and he felt upset. He felt like he was the guardian of the forest. he wanted to protect it. He felt like it was his duty to. Valpantiel’s angelic voice suddenly brought him out of his thoughts.

“Radagast, stop!”

The Wizard pulled on the reins and the rabbits came to a halt. Valpantiel dismounted Syviis and whispered for her to stay in Elvish. The elleth walked a few metres away from the horse to Radagast’s left and he saw her lean down on the forest floor.

“Valpantiel, my dear, what is it?” He asked. Valpantiel didn’t answer with words. Instead, she looked over her shoulder with a saddened look and beckoned him over with her hand. Radagast hopped off the sleigh and walked over to where Valpantiel was, standing next to her. He followed her gaze and gasped.

The ground was littered with small dead animals, scattered around for at least ten metres. There were rabbits, birds, small deer and squirrels. They were lying around in distorted positions, their eyes open and glassy. Valpantiel reached out her arm and placed her hand on a dead rabbit, her fingers stroking the soft fur. Her eyes welled up with tears as her hand wandered over the lifeless body and she heard no heartbeat. _No…_ She thought. _All these animals…innocent and once full of life…gone…forever._ She felt Radagast’s hand rest on her shoulder and she wiped her nose with her free hand.

“Ice cold.” Valpantiel murmured, taking her hand off the rabbit’s body.

“What happened here?” Radagast asked, his blue eyes wide as he scanned the area full of deceased wildlife.

“Evil, Radagast. Pure evil.” Valpantiel whispered. She placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around his palm. The sight before her was like hell itself. So many sweet and gorgeous animals, vulnerable and now dead. Valpantiel thought about the King and the look of shock that would be on his face if he saw what she was seeing now. She could only imagine his piercing eyes widening with grief and alarm. She knew that Thranduil loved the forest like it was one of his children. Sometimes, she had found him standing on his balcony, his eyes closed and his pointed ears pricking up, listening to the voices of the trees. Valpantiel thought about Eletha and how upset she would be if she saw how sick the forest was becoming. The look of shock in her emerald green eyes, her pink lips parting as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Valpantiel wondered how many other animals had suffered the same fate as the ones that lay before her.

“Valpantiel, look.” She heard Radagast say. Valpantiel looked up at him and saw that he was pointing with his staff ahead of her. She followed the direction where he was pointing his staff and her sky-blue eyes widened. Thick white strands covered the trees metres away from them, stretching out like toffee. It hung from tree to tree, shining dimly in the morning sunlight.

“What is that?” Valpantiel asked, standing up to her full height, her hand falling from the Wizard’s. Both of them had their eyes locked to the odd white substances that linked between the tall trees.

“I do not know, my dear. I have never seen it before.” Radagast said. Valpantiel was curious to what the white things were. The way it shone made it look harmless but there was no way of knowing unless she went closer. And that’s what she did. The elleth stepped forward, walking in the direction of the white-covered branches. Radagast watched in fear as his Elven friend approached the tree, his stubby fingers gripping his staff so tightly that he’d thought he would break it.

“Valpantiel, be careful!” He called out. The elleth heard the Wizard’s voice and kept on walking, her eyes still on the trees. Her hair glowed gold in the sunlight, lighting up her blue eyes and pale skin. She stopped at the bottom of one of the pale oak trees, the white substance twisting and stretching in the branches and leaves. Radagast kept his eyes to the golden-haired elleth, his lips curling in worry. Valpantiel craned her neck up and looked at the white substance, peering up at it. Even from this proximity, she still couldn’t tell what it was. There was just one last option left. She had to touch it.

The elleth reached up her hands and began to climb the tree. Radagast watched as Valpantiel effortlessly scaled the tree, the ends of her golden hair swaying about her waist. She reached a branch and sat on the edge of it, the thick white strands about two metres above her head. She planted her booted feet on the branch and raised her left hand, her fingers so close to the peculiar substance.

“My dear! Don’t fall!” She heard Radagast shout but she didn’t respond. Valpantiel bit her lip just as her fingertips touched the white strands. It was sticky and she gasped as she tried to get her fingers free. The white substances coiled around her fingers, cold and sticky. Now, she definitely knew what it was. Her feet wobbled on the branch and Radagast rushed forward, ready to block her fall.

“Valpantiel!” He cried, the staff dropping from his hand. Luckily, Valpantiel managed to regain her balance, placing her right hand on the tree’s pale trunk. After a few tries, she succeeded in getting her fingers free. She rubbed her thumb and other fingers together, trying to get rid of the weird after-touch.

“Are you OK, my dear?” Radagast asked.

“I am fine, _mellon-nin_.” Valpantiel said, looking down at the Brown Wizard. She turned around and saw that the trees behind her all had white strands, thick and shiny, twirling and stretching around each other. _Why is this happening?_ She asked herself but she did not know the answer. She was not sure if she wanted to know. But she had to find out. She had to. _I promised Thranduil. I promised him._ Valpantiel said in her mind. She climbed down the tree, grateful to be back on the ground as soon as her feet hit the grass and leaves. Radagast picked up his staff and looked up at Valpantiel, worried about her frightened expression.

“What is it, my dear? Do you know what the white stuff is?” He asked. Valpantiel locked her eyes to his and nodded, her tongue incapable of forming words to answer his questions. Radagast took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

“Valpantiel? What is it?”

Valpantiel couldn’t answer properly. _The truth would scare him. I cannot tell him._ She thought. So she answered him that was at least half the truth.

“The darkness, Radagast. The darkness is returning.”

Radagast’s blue eyes widened, full of terror.

“What are we going to do?”

“You do not have to do anything, Radagast. I will go ahead by myself.” Valpantiel said, pulling her hand free from the Wizard’s and she started to walk back to where Syviis and Radagast’s sleigh was. The Brown Wizard hurried after her, trying to comprehend what Valpantiel had just told him.

“You can’t, Valpantiel! If the darkness is returning, this forest is dangerous! Too dangerous to venture out on your own. Please, let me come with you.” He begged.

“No, Radagast. Stay here and see if you can find any living animals. Look after them. It is what you do best, my friend.” Valpantiel said, reaching her horse and mounting her, hooking her feet into the stirrups.

“Should I inform King Thranduil about where you are going?” Radagast asked.

“No, do not do that. Thranduil has already got enough on his mind. I do not want to bother him about this.” Valpantiel responded, taking the reins in her hands.

“Valpantiel.” Radagast spoke sternly. The golden-haired elleth looked down at the Brown Wizard, his blue eyes bright against his tanned skin and matted brown hair.

“Be careful, alright? I would feel terrible if something happened to you.”

“I will be fine, Radagast. Do not fret. Look after any of the surviving animals and I will return as soon as I can.”

“OK. But if you are not back by this time tomorrow, I am going to pay His Grace a visit.”

“Do what you wish, my friend. And may the Grace of the Valar protect you.” Valpantiel bowed her head to the Wizard and sent Syviis into a fast gallop, leaving Radagast and his rabbits behind.

 

**

 

The white strands covering the trees accursed as Valpantiel rode further South, deeper into the forest. She knew what the white strands were. Now that she had touched them, she knew. But the webs were no ordinary webs. They were unusually large, too large to be spun by regular spiders. _How large are these spiders? Why are they here? Where have they come from?_ The answers to the elleth’s questions would appear after she finished following the webs. Valpantiel noticed that the further South she rode, the thicker and larger the spider webs became, like she was getting closer to their source. She had given her packs of healing oils and plants to Radagast before she left. She figured that he might need more if he was treat any surviving animals that he found. As a result, the horse was carrying less weight, just the golden-haired elleth.

She did not know how far there was to go or how long it would be before she returned home to the palace. Valpantiel remembered Thranduil’s words, matching the scared look in his penetrating eyes. _I will allow you to visit Radagast. For three days only. If you are not back by then, I will come after you myself and look for you._ She knew that when Thranduil said something, he always meant it. She did not doubt the promises that he made to his loved ones. Valpantiel would die for him, as much as he would die for her. She was surprised herself by how much she missed him. Now more than ever. Because he was still trying to cope with his loss. Losing your beloved was not an easy thing to get over. The Eldar never got over it. It was why they only loved once. They would never give their heart to another. They stood for monogamy. Valpantiel felt like she had abandoned her brother at a time that he needed her most. Even though she did not show, she had reluctant to leave the palace. To leave her sister and the King. But if she had not gone, no-one would have.

As she rode even further into the forest, the atmosphere became cold and the light became darker, the spider webs blocking out the sunlight. Her bones were fraught with fear and uncertainty as the forest became dimmer. Valpantiel felt her heart begin to freeze, her blood turning cold as she shivered. The only light in the forest was the elleth’s bright golden hair, illuminating like a star. She felt alone, the horse’s snorts the only sounds that hit her ears. There were no tweeting birds or rustling deer. _This forest is not my home. This is not the same forest._ She thought as her blue eyes darted around in distress. The trees became dark and the leaves turned a murky green colour. The forest really did look sick. Like all its life had been leeched out and swallowed up.

After two hours, the trees began to thin out and dark grey rocks appeared. The sound of Syviis’s hooves echoed off the rocks, the wind blowing her mane and Valpantiel’s hair. The day had suddenly became gloomy, dark clouds wandering above, no sun visible. Valpantiel slowed Syviis to a walk, her hands gripping the reins. She turned around the corner and she felt her heart freeze with pure and utter terror.

There stood a fortress on Amon Lanc, crumbling and dark. Valpantiel recognised the area. It was where the old Greenwood Palace used to be. Where Oropher had first ruled over Greenwood. But the Elven palace was not what it once was. It looked dead and abandoned, like it was completely devoid of life.

“ _Âdhn,_ _Golgi_!”

The voice was deep and sharp, full of evil. It made Valpantiel jump out of her skin. Syviis did not move but the elleth kept a strong grip on the reins just in case. _I must not look afraid._ She told herself. So she spoke to the voice.

“I know who you are!”

“ _Do you_ , _Golgi_?” The voice asked in Black Speech. Valpantiel swallowed deeply and held her head up high.

“Why are you killing the forest?”

“ _Because when I rule these lands again, they must be habitable for my people. My Orcs do not love nature like you Elf dogs do._ ”

“This forest has done nothing to you! You will never return!” Valpantiel yelled, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the dark fortress.

“ _I already have_ , _Golgi. And it will not be long now. The flames of war are coming._ ”

The voice was commanding and terrifying, sending shivers down Valpantiel’s spine. Then, she spotted movement with her keen Elven eyes at the entrance to the fortress. She gripped Syviis’s reins, her eyes never leaving the fortress. Then, a spider appeared. But it was no ordinary spider. It was huge. At least six times the size of Valpantiel. It crawled out of the darkness on its eight legs, its many black eyes staring right at her. It scuttled forward, followed by its friend. Suddenly, there were two then three then four then five then six, all scurrying across the stone bridge that stood behind Valpantiel and the fortress.

“ _I will return, more powerful than ever. Go, run back to your stupid Elf King and tell him that I will kill all of his people and mount their heads on a spike. Including yours._ ”

Syviis reared up on her hind legs and whinnied loudly. Valpantiel managed to stay on the horse and as soon as all four hooves were back on the ground, she urged Syviis around and galloped away. She heard the voice cackling and the scuttling of the spiders behind her. She shouted at Syviis in Elvish to go faster, her golden hair flying out behind her. She felt tears stream down her face. She had just talked to the Dark Lord Sauron himself. The enemy of the free peoples of Middle-Earth. The person who had once covered the lands in darkness under his rule. Valpantiel hoped that the One Ring would remain lost forever. She knew that Sauron must never get his hands on it. If he did, it would all be over. All of her friends and loved ones would die. People would perish by the thousands and thousands would be made to serve the Dark Lord. _No, that must never happen._ She was so frightened. Soon, the spiders gave up but she did not slow Syviis down. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the fortress. She never wanted to see it again. She hoped she never would.

 

Valpantiel arrived back at Radagast after about ninety minutes of pure galloping. She slid off Syviis’s back and quickly tied her up. She knocked on the door and a moment later, Radagast appeared.

“Valpantiel, my dear, I have been so worried!” He cried and allowed her inside. She took a seat by the root of the large trunk that held the house together. She hugged her arms with her hands, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her hair fell around her shoulders and her sky-blue eyes had lost all of their happiness. All that remained was fear and fright. She still heard his voice, ringing her ears. How he would kill all of Thranduil’s people and put their heads on a spike, including hers. Valpantiel closed her eyes and images of her sister, the Captain, Tauriel, the prince, the princess, Lucile, Maeklin and the King flashed before her, their heads on spikes, their bright eyes lifeless and blood running from their noses and mouths.

“No!” She screamed, her eyes snapped open. She trembled, her body cold. Radagast leaned down in front of her and placed his tanned hand on her cheek.

“My dear, what is wrong?” He asked. Her blue eyes, full of tears, locked to his and her bottom lip trembled.

“I have to go home.” She said.

“OK.” Radagast nodded.

“Can I have some supplies?” She asked.

“Of course.” He smiled as the elleth got to her feet. She went back outside as he gathered some healing oils and balms. He packed them into a couple of small sacks and took them outside. The Brown Wizard handed them to Valpantiel and she tied them to the horse’s saddle. Radagast noticed that her hands were shaking and her eyes never blinked.

“Valpantiel, what happened?” He asked. She did not answer, which is what he expected. Valpantiel made sure that the sacks were secure and she mounted Syviis, taking the reins in her hands.

“Do not go South, Radagast. Do not follow the white webs.” She said without looking at him.

“My dear friend, what are you so taut? What did you find?”

Finally, the elleth looked down at him, her eyes wide with terror.

“I found _him_. _He_ is back. Be safe, Radagast.” Valpantiel said and rode off back to the palace without another word, leaving the Brown Wizard a mess of confused feelings and thoughts.

 

**

 

It had been two days since the Elvenking had allowed his personal healer to go and visit Radagast. He had regretted his decision the moment she had left his chambers. He was still worried about her. He cared for her like a little sister. Of course, Melda had blamed Thranduil for Valpantiel leaving the palace and he had to face her wrath yesterday night. He had remained calm and had hugged Melda until she stopped screaming.

It was nearing evening and Thranduil was staring at a blank piece of parchment, his hands folded over his forehead in frustration. There were three knocks on the doors and he said “Come in” without looking up. He heard the doors open and close and the swish of fabric on the stone floor. He did not who it was. That was until he heard her voice.

“My King.”

Thranduil looked up from the parchment and lowered his hands. He smiled widely when he saw Valpantiel standing before him. Her cheeks were a little ashen, brightening her blue eyes. Her golden hair was a little unruly and the braids in her hair had loosened quite a bit. She was dressed in her long green travelling dress, leather leggings and boots and her knives were strapped at the small of her back. The King quickly rose from his chair, walked around his desk and enveloped Valpantiel in his strong arms. Both of them let out a sigh of relief, their hold on each other ever tightening.

“Welcome home, Vally.” Thranduil murmured. Valpantiel felt so happy to be back home, encased in the Elvenking’s warm arms. She sighed and closed her eyes, pleased to be safe from the horrors that she had seen over the past 24 hours. Thranduil felt her tremble in his embrace and he kissed the top of her head gently.

“It is good to have you back, my Lady.” He whispered.

“I am happy to be back, Thranduil. I have missed home so much.” Valpantiel said softly, burying her face in the King’s chest. Thranduil sighed and tightened his hold on the golden-haired elleth, his ice-blue eyes soft.

“You have been missed, Valpantiel. Very much.” He said, hugging her like an older brother would hug his younger sister. They stayed in their embrace for another minute before the King let go.

“So, what did you find out?” He asked, both of them sitting down on the edge of the large bed. And so, Valpantiel told him everything that had happened. Everything that she had heard and seen. The dead plants and animals. The spider webs. How dark and dingy the forest became when she rode South. The fortress at Amon Lanc. The voice speaking to her in Black Speech. The large spiders chasing her.

“I am frightened, Thranduil. I am properly _properly_ scared.” Valpantiel said once she had finished telling him everything. The King reached out his right hand and cupped her face, bringing her eyes to his.

“You have every right to be, Valpantiel. I am too. There is no shame in being scared.”

“What are we going to do? _He_ has returned. He told me that he will kill everyone and put their heads on spikes. I do not want that to happen. I do not want to see my sister’s head on a spike or yours or anyone else’s.” Valpantiel whimpered, her eyes lowering to the floor. Thranduil let his hand fall from her face and he wrapped his other arm around her neck, pulling her to his chest.

“That will never happen, my Lady. I promise you. I will tighten the security on the palace and I will not allow anyone to leave except the Guard on their patrols.” Thranduil said, rubbing Valpantiel’s back soothingly. After what she had just told him, the King was beyond the simple feeling of being scared. He was completely terrified and worried. He was anxious for the lives of the people that lived in his realm and the people that he held most dear. After losing Eletha, Thranduil could not bare to lose anyone else who was close to him.

He had been worried that maybe Valpantiel would never return. He could not describe the feeling of relief that he felt when he saw Valpantiel standing in front of him. Thranduil had been so happy to see her, to hold her in his arms again. To see that she was OK. He would make an announcement that evening at the feast, announcing that no-one would be allow to leave apart from the Woodland Guard on their patrols and the citizens that did want to leave and were not part of the Guard, they would have to ask Thranduil for his permission. The Elvenking would protect his lands and people even more now, since they were all in terrible danger. He would keep all of his loved ones close now because he was afraid that he would lose them in the blink of an eye. Just like what happened with his wife.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Creoso a'baramin – Welcome to my dwelling

  * melloneamin – my friends

  * tithen pen – little one

  * Namaarie – Farewell

  * arwenamin – my Lady

  * tithen gwanun – little sister

  * gwanun – sister

  * Quen andune – Good afternoon

  * mellon-nin – my friend

  * Diola lle – Thank you




 Black Speech Translations

  * Âdhn – Leave

  * Golgi – Elf Woman




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a hard one! What did you guys think of the flashback? I wanted to explore the bond that Valpantiel and Thranduil shared and where it began. I’ve got so many feels! Now I’m getting so excited because I’m putting in references that will link to future chapters (a.k.a. The Hobbit timeline!) Drop me a comment to let me know what you think, see you next week :D


	6. Love Endures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eletha and Lord Elrond talk. Thranduil and his daughter share a couple of sweet moments together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5,500+ words, another 5 year time jump. I loved writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy it :)

5 years later

 

Rivendell had always been beautiful. Any Elf in Middle-Earth knew that. Eletha knew that even more since it was now her new home. She had living in Rivendell (more like hiding was the way that Lord Elrond put it) for ten years now and the news that she was alive had not reached past the village’s borders. Not even Lady Galadriel or Gandalf the Grey knew. Of course, Lord Elrond was against Eletha in not telling Thranduil that she was still alive but he decided to keep her secret all the same. Lady Arwen came to see Eletha almost daily, just to see how she was and the Queen had had the pleasure of meeting Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Both could be very mischievous and she was sure that Legolas and Melda would get along splendidly with them but they could keep their mouths shut. Especially when bribed to. Eletha had threatened them, stating that she would chop off their beautiful glossy black hair and wax their eyebrows off completely if they told anyone outside of Rivendell. That frightened the two ellyn greatly so they decided that they’d like to keep their hair and eyebrows.

On one Summer morning, Eletha rose from her bed, her hair in disarray around her. She dismissed her handmaidens and got dressed and did her hair by herself. She picked out a sleeveless pale green gown that was free flowing and made of the softest silk. It felt light on her body and allowed her to breathe properly. Floral embroidery adorned the scoop neckline and the waist. Once she had put on the dress, she went to work on her hair. Eletha brushed it thoroughly, getting rid of the knots and tangles. She split it into three strands at the nape of her neck and began to weave the strands together. She braided the entire length of her hair, securing the end with a wide silver Elven hair clasp, the end of the braid hanging just past her waist. Eletha had never put it up because she had made a promise to Thranduil that she never would. It made him happy when she had her hair out. _But I am not in his presence anymore._ She thought as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She was broken and she knew it. Her fëa was still alive but it did not glow like it used to. Her heart did not sing with love like it used to. She longed to go home and see her beloved, her children and her friends but she couldn’t. She did not want to put them in danger. Eletha had learnt that anyone close to her was now in danger. She had known that ever since Tarrol had poisoned Thranduil. She did not want to take that risk. She did not want something like that to happen a second time. Now that she had children, they might be his next target. _Thranduil will look after them and protect them like he has always done. I trust him._ Eletha said to herself, her saddened green eyes staring back at her through the mirror.

Eletha missed her children significantly. She longed to hold them in her arms and say that they were a family again. But she could not. She just…couldn’t. Eletha knew that Legolas was a strong ellon and he could look after himself. She knew that he would take care of his little sister. _Oh, Calarel, my sweet darling daughter…_ Eletha thought, remembering her daughter’s wailing when she rode off to Gundabad with the army. _That is the last time she saw me. I will never see her again._ Eletha said to her mind, lowering her head. _I will never see her grow up into a beautiful elleth, fall in love, get married and have children of her own. I will never see my son fall in love and become a father. I will never see Greenwood ever again._ Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she walked backwards, stumbling as she sat down on the edge of her bed. Her chambers were lavish enough but they did not have the comforts of home that her chambers in the palace did. Rivendell would never truly be her home.

Two slow knocks on her door made her look up. Eletha wiped away her tears and stood up, fixing the skirt of her gown and clearing her throat.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Lindir appeared, dressed in a dark blue tunic and an immaculate black robe. A muted gold circlet ornamented his head and his eyes were friendly.

“Queen Eletha.” He said.

“I am not a Queen anymore, Lindir. Eletha or “my Lady” shall suffice.” Eletha declared with authority. Lindir was reluctant to obey her demand but nodded his head.

“My Lady, Lord Elrond wishes for you to dine with him for breakfast in his chambers.”

Eletha blinked at Lindir a couple of time, surprised by the words that had just come out of his mouth.

“Tell Lord Elrond that I will join him momentarily.”

Lindir bowed his head and left, leaving the door open. Eletha stood there, looking out of the door to the scenic landscape that surrounded Rivendell. After ten years of living there, she still felt so out of place. She was not of Rivendell. She was born in the Forest of Greenwood. For a century-and-a-half, the palace was her home. The palace was where she had fallen in love. By no means had Eletha been ostracised by the inhabitants of Rivendell. She just felt lonely, that’s all. Because she was surrounded by Elves who were not her family. Lord Elrond had looked upon her as a second daughter over the past decade but she could not help but wonder why he always asked her to dine with him almost every day. Eletha was grateful that he had not informed the King about her but she could see that he was itching to. And she could not blame him. Elrond and Thranduil had been friends for many centuries and to keep a secret as big as this one was extraordinarily difficult for the Lord of Imladris.

Eletha fixed the skirt of her gown again, slipped on a pair of pale leather boots and made her way to Lord Elrond’s chambers. The former Queen of Greenwood had learnt her way around the Elven village over the past ten years and she never got lost. The morning sunlight lit up Rivendell like it was a glowing star in a picturesque painting. The green leaves sparkled ethereally in the sun and the soft breeze ruffled Eletha’s pale green dress, its short train grazing the stone floor behind her. The hall that led to Lord Elrond’s chambers was blissfully quiet and there was no Elf in sight. When she reached the large double doors, she took a deep breath knocked thrice.

“Come in.”

Eletha opened the doors and walked inside. His chambers were so spacious that they rivalled the ones that Thranduil had. But in Elrond’s chambers, it was more open, balconies inside of windows. Eletha looked up and marvelled at the engravings on the ceiling, simple but elegant. The beauty of Rivendell never ceased to amaze her. It was so different to the Greenwood Palace but just as splendid.

“ _’Quel amrun_ , Eletha.”

The elleth looked down from the ceiling and her eyes went to where she had heard the voice. She looked to her right and saw Lord Elrond. He was sitting on the patio in his grand chair, plates of food covering the table. His hair was glossy, completely loose apart from a braid that was weaved behind his head, exposing his pointy ears. He was garbed in tawny robes with a gold brooch at his collar and a matching gold circlet sat on his head. It was just him. No-one else. Not even Lindir.

“My lord Elrond.” Eletha curtsied.

“Come. Join me for breakfast.” Elrond said, beckoning her over with his left hand. Eletha took hold of the skirt of her gown and walked up the small steps to the patio. The food looked absolutely delicious. Eggs, salad, greenery, bread, butter and at least half-a-dozen types of jam. Eletha took a step opposite Lord Elrond, the plate in front of her shiny and empty.

“Help yourself to anything, my Lady.” Elrond smiled gently, gesturing to the food. Eletha bit her lip and grabbed a piece of toast. She began to butter it, feeling Elrond’s eyes on her. She was pondering over what jam to have when he spoke.

“ _Sut naa lle_ , _arwenamin_?”

“Fine, my lord. I am feeling fine.”

“You have been very quiet over the past year, Eletha. Is something suddenly troubling you?” Elrond asked.

“Something has been troubling me for the past decade. Aren’t you going to eat anything, my lord?” Eletha said, spreading the fig marmalade over her toast. She noticed that he had not even touched his cutlery.

“I will. Once we have talked.” Lord Elrond answered bluntly, his expression stern. Her hand froze, her fingers gripping the knife a little too tightly. Eletha looked at him and saw that his lips were pressed into a thin line. _This cannot be good. When he has that look, it is never a good thing._ She thought, swallowing deeply with nervousness.

“Eletha…I know I have asked this question before but I am going to ask it again.” Lord Elrond said, placing his forearm on the table and leaning forward.

“Why do you not return home?”

Eletha stared at him with wide green eyes, her lips parting in surprise. She could not count in her head how many times Elrond had asked her that question. It was definitely in the hundreds. Eletha stalled and did not answer straightaway. Instead, she looked down at her jam-covered toast and began to cut it diagonally.

“My answer will be the same as before, my lord. I do not, _will_ not, return home because if I do, all the people that I care about will be in danger.”

“From the ellon called Tarrol?” Elrond raised his eyebrow at her.

“Yes, I told you. He was the one who poisoned Thrand-, uh, the King.” Eletha bit her lip and finished cutting her toast. Lord Elrond leaned back in his seat and stared at Eletha as she took a bite of her toast.

“You cannot even say his name anymore.” He said. Eletha shook her head, not looking at the Lord of Rivendell.

“I cannot bring myself to. It makes me upset.”

“You are upset because you are many leagues away from your beloved. How do you think he feels?” Elrond questioned.

“I hate to think. Oh, Valar, he is not dead, is he?” Eletha gasped, her eyes suddenly wide and full of fear, boring into Elrond’s mind.

“No, Eletha, he is not.”

Eletha breathed a sigh of relief and took another bite of her toast.

“But that does not mean that he wishes to die.” Elrond said. Eletha narrowed her eyes at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Eletha, he thinks you are dead. You know what usually happens to an Eldar who loses their mate.” Elrond declared.

“I do. But your wife sailed many years, did she not? And you are still living.” Eletha pointed out.

“I am still alive because I have my three children to look after and protect.”

“And what do you think the King is doing?” Eletha asked, raising her voice. Lord Elrond did not say anything. He simply kept his eyes to hers.

“He has got two children to look after and protect too! And unlike your children, they are next in line to the throne. He would not abandon them!”

“My Lady…”

“I was not finished, my lord! He would not leave them on their own! I know he would not. He would do it for me! And I trust him. I trust Thranduil!” Eletha yelled, fighting the urge to stand up. And then, she realised what she had done. Lord Elrond looked at her with a mixture of shock and anger.

“My lord, I…apologise. I did not mean to let off at you…It is not your fault.” She said hurriedly, her heart filling up with shame. Then, Elrond smiled softly.

“You said his name.”

In all the commotion of her shouting, Eletha had not realised that she had said her beloved’s name. She had not said in front of anyone in such a long time. The name felt oddly foreign on her tongue but at the same time, was so familiar. Her toast lay forgotten on the plate, along with her butter and jam-stained knife. She looked down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

“I did.” Eletha whispered. She played with the ring that sat on her left hand. Eletha never took her wedding ring off. It was her only reminder of him. The only thing that she had that represented the love that they had shared. She still loved Thranduil. And her heart longed for his company and for his touch. She hardly remembered the feeling of his fingers on her body or the touch of his lips on her own. The only Eletha did remember was his voice. That deep baritone that had said so many romantic things to her. She would give anything to hear his voice again. But with Tarrol still out there, Eletha did not want to take that risk. She would rather be 1,000 leagues away from Thranduil rather than see his dead body lying in front of her.

“I know he would not leave his children. After having such an abusive relationship with his father, I know that Thranduil would look after his children like his father never did.” Elrond said.

“Did you know King Oropher, Lord Elrond?” Eletha asked.

“I did, my Lady. He was a good King. He always put on a happy face but behind that façade was an ellon who was frightened.”

“Frightened?”

“Oropher knew there was a war coming. He was afraid. He was full of rage and he took it all out on his son. I assume you know that Thranduil was mistreated when he was younger?” Elrond asked. Eletha nodded, picking up her piece of toast again.

“I do. But why would his father take it all on him?”

“Thranduil was rebellious when he was young, as you no doubt know. Oropher abhorred his son’s behaviour in not playing by the rules and bedding at least five or six ellith a year. All of them more than once.” Lord Elrond said. Eletha immediately felt jealous. To think that Thranduil had had sex with so many ellith before her, it made her sick. To think that other ellith had fisted their hands in his silken hair, looked into his crystalline eyes, kissed his perfect lips. But then again, he never married any of those ellith. He had married her because he loved her. Because she had been the one for him. Lord Elrond noticed how uncomfortable she looked and apologised.

“You probably did not want to know that, Eletha. I am sorry.”

“It is fine, my lord. He told how his father treated him. I think he was afraid, when I first told him that I was pregnant with Legolas, to be like his father. A dreadful parent. But I knew as soon as our son came into the world, he fell in love with him.” Eletha spoke softly, tears welling up in her eyes. They came every time she talked or thought about her family. The family that was so far away from her.

“I miss him.” She whispered, closing her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears.

“I know you do. And His Grace misses you too. He sent me a letter last week.”

Eletha’s eyes snapped open, glowing like sparkling emeralds. Her expression morphed into one of complete shock, all the blood draining from her face. _Oh, Valar! Does he know? No, he cannot! Elrond would have told me if he knew. He cannot know!_ Eletha’s mind went into chaos and her heart fell like it had been ripped out of her chest, dripping with hot blood.

“Do not worry, my Lady. Thranduil does not know you are here. But since we have been friends for a very long time, we exchange letters.”

‘Of course you do. Have you written him a reply?” Eletha asked.

“Yes, I have. But I have told him nothing about your whereabouts. I promised you that I would not tell him. In any case, your secret is not mine to tell. If you were ever let him know that you still live, it would be your job to do so. Not mine or anyone else’s. Only you, Eletha.” Lord Elrond answered. He rose from his chair, his lavish robes falling about his tall figure. He walked to the end of the table and picked up a folded piece of parchment, the seal of Greenwood Palace broken. _That is the letter._ She thought. Elrond walked back to his seat and handed the letter to Eletha.

“You may want to read it, my Lady.”

The former Queen took the letter gently from Lord Elrond and opened it, smoothing out the creases. She recognised the King’s writing right away and she began to read the words that were printed in black ink.

 

_Hello, old friend,_

_It has been a while since we last saw each other. I trust that you are well and living your life as normal. It pleases me to tell you that I have mastered the magic to conceal my burns. They only appear when I am angry. I remember I would hardly look at myself. I was a wounded King. I still am. Not physically but emotionally. I wonder how Eletha would react if she saw me with my burns. Would she love me still? Would she be scared? That I will_ _never_ _know because she is gone forever._

_There is troubling news here, Elrond. The forest, my forest, is sick. Evil is festering in the trees and wildlife are perishing all the time. I feel like I am losing one of my children. Lady Valpantiel went to visit the Brown Wizard five years ago and found the cause behind the forest’s illness. It was not what we thought it was. The Dark Lord Sauron has taken up residence in the old Elven fortress at Amon Lanc. He spoke to Valpantiel and threatened her. I have never seen her so frightened when she returned. She cried in my arms for hours. I hated seeing her leave. It was like seeing my sister leave. I cannot lose anyone else who is close to me. I have already lost Eletha. I cannot afford to lose anybody else._

_My children are the only things that keep me going. I live for them. Both are faring well, considering that they had to deal with losing their mother and a grieving father. Legolas continues to be an accomplished member of the Guard and so has Tauriel. Her fiery personality and devotion to fighting reminds me of Eletha. Calarel is well. She continues to grow more beautiful every day. When I look at her, I see Eletha. When I look at my son, I see Eletha. Everywhere I look, I see Eletha. I hope that she has found another life in the Valar. Somewhere where she is safe from the dangers of this world. I will forever love her and I miss her more than my heart can say. But I will live on. I will honour her memory as best as I can._

_Please say hello to your sons and your daughter for me. I am sending Lady Arwen a present within the next month. You must let me know if she likes it. I hope she does._

_Sincerely, from Thranduil, King of Greenwood the Great_

 

The tears were warm as they ran her pale cheeks. She gripped the letter in her hands, almost knowing how his fingers moved when he wrote the words on the parchment. To read Thranduil pour his heart out in the letter broke Eletha’s soul. _He is still mourning over me and he does not know that he does not have any reason to._ She thought. _At least my children are OK._ But some of the content in the letter frightened Eletha.

“He was burnt?” She gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“Yes, quite horrifically. When I first saw him, all of the skin on the left-hand side of his face and neck was completely gone. I taught him a healing spell to help conceal his injuries. Obviously, he has mastered it.” Lord Elrond said confidently.

“He wonders if I would have still loved him with his burns. Of course I would! I still love him.”

“But he does not know that, Eletha. But the good news is that he has learnt to disguise his burns. It is a start.”

“And what about the forest? It is sick?” Eletha asked.

“It has been sick for the past five or six years, I believe.” Elrond said, taking the letter from her and folding it up.

“He said that the Dark Lord spoke to Valpantiel. Sauron has returned?” She asked.

“Maybe not completely. In another letter, Thranduil said that Valpantiel just heard a voice. There was not a physical representation of him.”

Eletha had heard of Sauron many times before. She had been educated on what he done 3,000 years ago. She knew about the One Ring and how he must never find it. Greenwood was her home and to see becoming encroached by stinking evil and darkness made her stomach flip. She could only imagine how Thranduil was feeling. _Valpantiel heard the Dark Lord speak. She must have been petrified._ Eletha thought, picturing her friend’s frightened sky-blue eyes in her head. She brought her long braid down her left shoulder and began to fiddle with the end of it.

“Everyone in Greenwood is in danger.” She whispered.

“Everyone in Middle-Earth is in danger, Eletha. This beautiful world has been hit by darkness before and it barely survived to recreate itself. It cannot be hit by a second wave of darkness. Not now. Not ever.” Elrond said, his eyes dark beneath the gold circlet.

“You were there, weren’t you? At the battle below Mount Doom.”

“Yes, I was. That was a long time ago. The day Isildur cut the Ring from the Dark Lord’s hand.”

“What happened to the Ring?” Eletha asked.

“I led Isildur into Mount Doom and I tried to persuade him to throw it into the fire. He did not. He turned and left. The Ring had already corrupted him.” Elrond said. Eletha placed her forearms on the table, her hands resting on her upper arms. The Lord of Imladris stared past Eletha, looking at the horizon beyond the valley.

“It should have ended that day, Eletha. But evil was allowed to persevere, because of Isildur’s stupidity.”

Eletha stared at Lord Elrond for a moment before looking down, her long braid soft on her shoulder. Evil had arisen and darkness was coming. She could not imagine Rivendell or Greenwood or Lothlórien being destroyed. All there Elvendoms were places of beauty. They seemed invincible to malevolence but apparently, that was not true. There was only one thing that they could rely on. That the One Ring would be lost forever. But Eletha had a sickening feeling that that would not be the case for very much longer.

 

**

 

The princess was a vision of splendour, just like her mother. She was flourishing at the tender age of 41, having the appearance of a human girl at the age of 15. Calarel’s chocolate brown hair had grown even longer, ending a couple of inches past her waist, curling at the ends just like her mother’s did. Her skin was flawless, pale and beautiful. Her eyes shone a bright emerald green and whenever she smiled, it lit up the room.

Calarel missed her mother beyond anything. It had been over a decade since the Queen’s funeral but that period of time was nothing to one of the Eldar. The pain of her loss was still fresh for the princess. She had been so young when her mother had perished from the land of the living. Too young to lose a parent. But she still had her father and her brother. The two ellyn were her life now. They were both fiercely protective of her, being the only female in the royal family. Legolas insisted of being her personal guard but Calarel protested against that, stating that he had a life of his own and that he should not dedicate every waking second of it to protect her. Of course, she was flattered that her brother was so defensive of her but she needed freedom sometimes. She needed time to herself.

Summer was her second favourite season, just behind Spring. Calarel loved the warmth and the sun. But the main reason that she loved Summer was that she loved to wear the summer gowns which were light and soft. As she walked the halls of the palace in the early afternoon, the princess wore a gold gown that was sleeveless and the hem fell down to her sandalled-feet. Her hair was in a half done-up style, consisting of elaborate twists and braids, letting the loose locks cascade down her back, her pointed ears exposed. Even for an elleth so young, Calarel held her head high. She was Princess of the Woodland Realm, after all.

The palace was peaceful and she hardly passed anyone as she walked over the archways and across the rail-free paths. The sound of the flowing waterfalls was so calming to her and she could easily fall asleep to it. Calarel ventured down to the lower levels where the small warm pools were located. They were her favourite place to go when she wanted to be alone. It was always so peaceful down there, a place where she would not be disturbed. Calarel reached the pools and took off her sandals, setting them down on the stone floor. She sat down on the edge of one of the pools and placed her feet in the water. It was warm and was very refreshing as she stretched out her toes. The princess pulled the skirt of her gold gown up, keeping it out of the water. The calming sound of the waterfall that cascaded behind her to the left was the only sound in the whole area. Calarel was on her own and she was perfectly happy to be isolated for ten or fifteen minutes. Unlike most Elves who liked to have company, Calarel was an elleth who loved solitude when it was necessary. When she was alone, she could gather her thoughts and not have any disruptions from anyone. She closed her eyes and remembered the many times that her mother had taken her down to the pools.

_Come here whenever you need to be alone, iell-nin._

That was what Eletha had said to her when she was very young. Calarel still remembered the angelic sound of her mother’s voice. She still dreamt of her at night. She dreamt that she was alive and living in the palace with her people. Calarel was extremely family orientated. She adored her family. Not only did she have her father and brother, she also had Valpantiel and Melda who she considered her aunts and Captain Tyaeron who had become like an uncle to her. And the red-haired elleth named Tauriel was like her older sister and Calarel looked up to her a great deal. The princess also a keen eye for the desire for romantic attachments. She had seen the way her older brother looked at Tauriel. She had witnessed the way he acted around her. Frankly, Calarel would love it if Legolas and Tauriel got together. _Then Tauriel will really be my sister._ She thought. Then, a deep yet gentle voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Calarel.”

The princess looked over her left shoulder and saw her father standing in front of the flowing waterfall. The light from the openings in the ceiling made him look ethereal, his hair and skin glowing like he was an angel. King Thranduil was dressed in regal robes of dark indigo and silver, a leaf pattern covering the fabric. Underneath, he wore a dark grey tunic with a high-necked collar, the spiky brooch shining in the light. Calarel had learnt that she did not always have to curtsey in front of him. He was not just her King. He was also her father.

“Hello, _Adar_.” The princess smiled, wadding her feet in the warm clear water. For once, the King’s head was free of his crown or a circlet, letting his long pale blonde hair fall loose around his broad shoulders.

“I did not hear you enter.” She said.

“You were in your own little word, my darling.” Thranduil smiled and walked over to his young daughter, his robes grazing the stone floor.

“I apologise for disturbing you.”

“You could never disturb me, _Adar_.” Calarel whispered, her green eyes shining with joy. She always felt happy in her father’s presence. He made her feel safe all the time. Thranduil sat down next to her, curling his long muscular legs beneath his body, his robes splaying out around him.

“I had a feeling that I would find you down here. I was looking for you.” He said.

“Really?” Calarel asked in surprise.

“I thought “Where does Calarel go to be alone?” and I remembered all the times that your…mother brought you down here.”

Calarel saw the look of sadness flash across her father’s face. There was no mistaking it. He would always mourn for Eletha. Forever until the day he died or until he sailed to the Undying Lands.

“Why were you looking for me, _Adar_? Is there something that you want to talk to me about?” The princess asked.

“I have a surprise for you. A present.” Thranduil smiled and stood up, his robes swishing about his tall stature.

“A present? What for?”

“You will understand why when you see it. Come, my darling.” The King said, holding out one of his ring-adorned hands. Calarel slid her hand into his, hers still small compared to his. He gently pulled her to her feet and smiled down at her. Calarel had grown quickly and was now just under his armpit. Thranduil had a feeling that she would end up the same height as her mother and if not, just a little smaller. Calarel shook her feet free of water, sending droplets over the floor. She pulled her sandals back on her feet and took her father’s hand again.

Thranduil walked her out of the pool area and into the hall that led up to the second level of the palace. They walked side-by-side, their palms pressed together and their fingers clasped together. Even by just standing next to him, Calarel felt safe. Her father radiated an aura of supremacy and power that was very intimidating to many people. Men and Elves alike feared his authority and above all, they feared his wrath. But behind that exterior of a strong King was a loving and caring ellon and a dedicated father. That was the side that Calarel knew the best.

The King led his daughter to his chambers and directed her to sit on the edge of his large bed. Thranduil slept alone now and he could hardly bear it. Back when he was still in the throes of deep grief, he sometimes invited Calarel to sleep with him at night. He needed comfort from family and Legolas was too old to sleep in the same bed as his father so Calarel was the logical option. Fortunately, she never objected because she too needed comfort from family. And she wanted to help her father through his sorrow and in turn, he would help her through hers.

Thranduil went to his desk and opened the first drawer. Calarel narrowed her eyes as he extracted a wooden box in the shape of a square. She could see an intricate vine engraving on the front, echoing the Forest of Greenwood. The King came over to his beloved daughter and took a seat next to her.

“I think now is the time for you to have this, my dear.” He said, placing the wooden box in her lap. Calarel looked at her father for a moment before her attention was grabbed by the square-shaped box. Her fingers traced the engraving, following the curves and twists. The box itself was a masterpiece, beautifully crafted. _Someone very skilful created this box._ She thought. Calarel took a deep breath and opened the lid.

“ _Adar_!” She cried. Inside the box was a simple necklace. But it was not just any old necklace. It had a golden elk pendant, nestled into the silk within the box. Calarel knew what it was. She knew where she had seen it. But most importantly, she knew who it had belonged to.

“I am certain that your mother would have wanted you to have this.” Thranduil whispered, smiling widely at his daughter’s reaction. Calarel gingerly picked up the necklace from its chain and lifted it out of the box. She laid the pendant in her hand, the small elk sparkling like gold in the light. It was so beautiful and Calarel fought the urge to cry. To receive something that had belonged to her mother and held much significance to her memory, she found it both wonderful and surprising. Calarel looked at her father and smiled, throwing her arms around his neck.

“ _Diola lle_ , _Adar_.”

“ _Lle creoso_ , _iell-nin_.”Thranduil murmured, returning her tight embrace by wrapping his arms around her. He knew that Eletha would be pleased about him giving Calarel her necklace. It was like a family heirloom that could be passed down from mother to daughter. When the princess grew up and had children of her own, she could give the necklace to her daughter and so on. The first family heirloom for females in the royal family of Greenwood.

 

Elvish Translations

  * ’Quel amrun – Good morning

  * Sut naa lle? – How are you?

  * arwenamin – my Lady

  * iell-nin – my daughter

  * Adar – Father

  * Diola lle – Thank you

  * Lle creoso – You’re welcome




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re building up to The Hobbit now and I’m so excited! Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts, I’d love to know what you guys are thinking :) This chapter was inspired by ‘Another Lonely Night’ by Adam Lambert, a beautiful and heartbreaking song. Next up, we see Legolas! We haven’t seen him since Chapter 3 so yay for the prince!


	7. Captain Tauriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel becomes Captain of the Woodland Guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, big chapter for Tauriel! Also, huge (actually enormous) time jump, sorry. It’s mostly all about her so I’m sorry to all of the people who don’t like her but she is important in my story. I needed to have a chapter centred around her for the story to flow but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this 12,500+ word chapter :)

200 years later

 

There had been no news from the abandoned Elven fortress at Amon Lanc and the forest was slowly and painfully still degrading. That pain extended out and affected all of Greenwood’s people, especially the Silvan Elves living in their villages. The food source was decreasing at a slow rate but still had an effect on the villagers. Thranduil sent supplies to each village every month, to help them carry on with their lives and survive. While Legolas and Calarel were his biological children, they were not the only children that Thranduil needed, _and_ wanted, to protect. Each and every Elf that lived out in the villages was one of his children and it was his duty as King to protect them. He took no shame in caring for the Silvan Elves. He loved them. After all, Eletha had been a Silvan Elf. And Tauriel was also of Silvan heritage.

The elleth with the fiery red hair had grown into one of the most beautiful ellith that Thranduil had ever seen. But he knew not to be distracted by her beauty. Tauriel was also a formidable female warrior, a valued asset to the Woodland Guard. Whatever creature ended up on the wrong side of her two twin daggers was in deep trouble. Anyone who would be threatened by Tauriel from behind the point of her arrow cinched her bow better surrender or they would be dead in a heartbeat. She was unlike any fighter that Thranduil had seen in his long life and he was sure that there would not any elleth of her liking ever again. She was an individual that no-one could match. Everyone in the palace knew who she was and what she was capable of. Tauriel was the only elleth in the palace that had just a distinctive shade of hair so whenever an Elf saw a glimpse of burnt copper, they knew it was the Silvan Elf.

Both Tyaeron and Melda were extremely proud of Tauriel’s fighting, of her talent. But no-one was more proud than the prince. Legolas had known her for centuries now and he had watched her grow into an extraordinary member of the Guard. He had also witnessed her mature into an elleth of pure radiance and beauty. His heart beated differently when he laid eyes on her, tugging it in a direction that he had no experience of. All Legolas knew was that he felt something for her. Something deep. She affected him in a way that no other elleth did. Maybe it was her strength in learning the ways of combat. Or maybe it was the way her hazel eyes stared at him fleetingly, glowing a soft green in the sunlight. The prince did not know what he felt but he was sure to find out soon.

Tyaeron had been Captain of the Woodland Guard for at least 800 years and he had enjoyed his time being the Captain. He had trained dozens of ellith and ellyn who were very capable in sword-fighting, archery and the combat of daggers. He had had the privilege of training the late Queen Eletha and her son, Prince Legolas. He had trained his beloved, Melda, for many years and his love grew for her every single day. He felt honoured to have an elleth like Melda as his own. She was powerful and strong but also had a soft side and was caring. Her voice was as sweet as honey. Her eyes were like two glowing amethysts, shifting between purple and violet in the light. Her hair was like a curtain of pure gold, so soft and silken all the time. Her skin was smooth and perfect and her body was lithe but with a slight curve around her hips. Melda was the definition of Tyaeron’s dream elleth. Oh, how heartbroken he would be if anything happened to her. He would die if she perished. Tyaeron could only image how the King was feeling. Still, after all these centuries, the King still mourned for his Queen. Everyone in the Woodland Realm did.

Tyaeron went to the King’s chambers on one Autumn evening. The sun was hovering over the horizon, ready to dip below it. An orange glow flashed across the Greenwood Forest, lighting it up like a star. The Captain reached the double doors of Thranduil’s living quarters and knocked three times. From inside, he heard the deep voice of the King.

“Enter.”

Tyaeron opened the doors and walked inside, closing the doors behind him. He found Thranduil sitting at his desk, a goblet of red wine in his left hand. He was garbed in simple yet beautiful blue robes, highlighting his crystalline eyes and pale blonde hair. Even without a head ornament, he still held so much authority. Just his presence radiated dominance. Thranduil looked up and saw Tyaeron standing near the closed doors.

“ _’Quel undome_ , Captain.”

“ _’Quel undome_ , Your Grace.”

“What brings you here to my chambers on this fine evening, Captain?” The King asked, taking a sip of his wine, keeping his eyes to Tyaeron. The Captain stepped forward and came to a halt in front of the King’s desk. Thranduil looked up at Tyaeron, his right hand dangling over the arm of the chair, waiting for the dark-haired ellon to speak. Tyaeron thought that there was no easy way to say it so he just said it.

“I wish to resign from my post as Captain, my King.”

Thranduil’s grip on his goblet loosened and for a moment, he was afraid that it would fall from his hand. He stared at Tyaeron with a look of utter disbelief, his lips pressed together in a thin line. _Well, that dampened the mood of this wonderful evening._ Thranduil thought. He was in shock. He had not expected for Tyaeron to ever resign. Thranduil saw how much he loved being the Captain. Guiding and training the soldiers and picking out new recruits and apprentices. The King clutched his goblet tightly, his long fingers curling around it. Tyaeron could see that the King was in shock. He had expected that, anyway. It had been Thranduil himself who had appointed Tyaeron as Captain of the Woodland Guard. And now, he wished to resign. Thranduil could not comprehend the news that he had just received. Tyaeron waited for the King to say something. The silence between them was excruciating uncomfortable.

“Why?” The King finally asked, his piercing eyes narrowed and his thick dark eyebrows creased.

“I have been Captain for nearly 1,000 years, my King. And in those years, I have the best time. But I wish to focus more of my time on Melda. I hardly ever see her anymore, at least not out of the training grounds. Maybe once a week. It is not enough to sate the longing of my heart for her.” Tyaeron said assertively, his eyes on the Elvenking that sat before him.

“That is understandable, Tyaeron. But I cannot help but wonder if there is another reason why you wish to resign.” Thranduil said, raising an eyebrow. And he was right. The King could see through people and he could see through Tyaeron. And Tyaeron knew that. There was another reason. He just did not know how to word it correctly.

“You are right, my King. There is another reason.”

“Then, pray tell me what it is.” The King urged, placing his goblet of wine on his desk. Tyaeron stepped forward and placed his hands on the desk, his skin pale against the brown wood. He looked down, not meeting the King’s gaze. _How do I tell him? Will he approve? I will never know unless I tell him._ Tyaeron thought, his dark hair falling over his shoulders.

“I…I have found someone else who is worthy of being Captain.”

“Look at me when you are talking to me, Tyaeron.” The King ordered. Tyaeron looked up and met the King’s pair of beautiful and sharp eyes.

“I have found someone else who is worthy of being Captain.”

“I heard you the first time. But, Tyaeron, you are very worthy of being Captain. Why do you think I chose you all those years ago?” Thranduil said, his voice softening a little.

“I have been Captain for many centuries, my King. I think it is time, and fair, that the position should be given to someone else.” Tyaeron declared in a confident voice. Thranduil leaned back in his chair and folded his ringed hands in his lap. He had always thought that Tyaeron would be Captain until he died. He was the best Captain that there had ever been. He embodied all the qualities of not only a leader and a warrior but a teacher too. The problem was if Tyaeron wished to resign, who would take his place? At that moment in time, Thranduil could not think of anyone who could take Tyaeron’s place. But then he remembered that Tyaeron said that he had found someone.

“So who is this person that you find worthy of being Captain after you, Tyaeron?” The King asked, his eyes on the Captain (for now, at least) that stood in front of him. The sea-green eyes met a pair of ice-blue ones, never blinking or breaking contact. Tyaeron took a deep breath and answered the King’s question.

“Tauriel, Your Grace.”

That was an answer that Thranduil did not see coming. He was grateful that he was not holding his goblet of wine because if he had been when being told this, he would have dropped it. And that would have resulted in a large mess on the stone floor for Maeklin to clean up. He just stared at Tyaeron, his eyes wide, making them even more trenchant than usual. Three things entered Thranduil’s mind at that moment. One: He knew how capable Tauriel was in combat. But the trouble was that she had never been in a battle before. She had been a part of a few skirmishes in the forest but nothing major. She had no experience of being in a war so then how could she be the Captain? Two: There had never been a female Captain before, let alone a Silvan one. And three: He wondered how Tauriel and the rest of the Woodland Realm would react to this news. Tyaeron took his hands off the desk and folded his arms, shuffling his feet. Once again, the silence was very uncomfortable. Tyaeron deliberated about maybe saying something but he decided not to. He understood that the King needed a few moments to process his thoughts on this matter. Thranduil knew that his son would ecstatic. He could easily imagine the smile on Legolas’s face when he found out.

_Oh, Adar! That is amazing! Tauriel is perfect for the position! When is the initiation ceremony going to take place?_

He heard his son’s excited voice in his head. Thranduil knew that his daughter too would be ecstatic that the red-haired elleth was up for the position of Captain. And Melda, Valpantiel and Maeklin would also be happy, as far as Thranduil knew. But the person who would be the most proud and the most pleased was Eletha. Thranduil knew that his wife would have been one hundred percent for Tauriel being the Captain if she was alive. But he always thought that Eletha was looking down on them from above. He could almost hear her angelic voice in his mind.

_Give the position to Tauriel, melamin. She deserves it._

Thranduil closed his eyes and relished the sound of her voice. What he would give to hear it in the flesh just once more. Tyaeron looked at the King and deduced that he was in some kind of trance state. He walked around the desk and placed his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder.

“Your Grace, _lle tyava quel_?” He asked. The King opened his eyes and looked up to his left to see Tyaeron staring down at him with an anxious expression on his face.

“I feel fine, Tyaeron. Do not worry.”

Tyaeron nodded and gave the King’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Instead of walking back around the desk again, he leaned against it.

“What do you think of my suggestion, my King? Were you shocked?” Tyaeron asked.

“No, not shocked. Merely…surprised. I did not think you were going to say her name.” Thranduil answered.

“Do you approve?”

“I know full well what a talented soldier Tauriel is. I have watched her skill to fight grow every year since the beginning of her training. I believe she is one of the most talented members of the Guard and she really does outdo the ellyn in many ways.” Thranduil said.

“My thoughts are the same, my King.” Tyaeron smiled.

“But, Tyaeron, Tauriel is so young. Only 375 years of age. To us Eldar, she is still nothing more than a child. To give her a position as big as this at such a young age is what I consider a gamble.”

Tyaeron knew that the King would say something along those lines. It was true, Tauriel was deemed a child in Elven standards. Thranduil was over 2,000 years her senior and Tyaeron was nearing his 2,000th nameday. They were both so much older than her and held much more experience but the King could see where Tyaeron was coming from. Tauriel was very skilful and her ability to attack and defend was unlike anything that he had ever seen before. She could be incredibly ruthless and intense but could fight with a pure elegance that looked beautiful from an outsider’s point of view. But her age bothered Thranduil. It was like chucking a child into battle. To Thranduil, it was like handing a sword to an elfling. That was how dangerous it felt to him. It was also personal for the King. It was him who had found her scared out of wits in Shinal during the conflict with the Orcs. And from then on, he had looked at her like a daughter. Tauriel was his daughter before Calarel was born. Thranduil loved Tauriel. He truly did. And he was worried that if she began Captain, she would be in even more danger when she went out for patrols and battles.

“I know it is a gamble but I believe that she is the right person to succeed me.” Tyaeron said.

“Have you told Tauriel about this?”

“No, my King. I wanted to tell you first.”

“Then how do you know if Tauriel actually wants to be Captain?” Thranduil asked. The thought had not occurred to Tyaeron. _What if she does not want to be Captain? Who else could succeed me?_

“I had not thought of that, my King. Who else could be Captain?” Tyaeron asked.

“Ladon, perhaps? Maybe Sarolan?” The King suggested. Both of them were also exceptional members of the Guard but to Tyaeron, no-one could beat Tauriel. Not even the prince.

“I think…Ladon should be Captain. That is only if Tauriel does not want to be.” He said.

“Sounds like a plan, Tyaeron.”

“Do you approve of Tauriel then, my King?” Tyaeron asked. Thranduil sighed slowly and nodded. He could not deny what an amazing warrior she was. Even though she would be in danger, he could tell how much she loved to fight and her passion for being a member of the Woodland Guard.

“I do. You may retire to your chambers now and I will tell her. You deserve a rest, Tyaeron.” Thranduil said, standing up.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Tyaeron smiled and bowed before leaving the chambers, heading off to find Melda.

The King remained in his chambers for a moment. He went through his thoughts, replaying his conversation with Tyaeron in his head. He did not know how Tauriel was going to react. The idea would either be a great success or it would fall flat on its face. Thranduil thought that it would be better to just get it over with and go and tell her. If he did not, it will linger in his mind and never leave. So he adjusted his blue robes and left his chambers, his mind swirling with every possibility of Tauriel’s reaction.

 

**

 

She stood in her chambers, unbuckling the belt that was wrapped around her lithe waist. It had been a long day of training for Tauriel and she had just returned from her evening patrol with Ladon. There had been nothing to report so she went back to her chambers. Tauriel was an adventurous elleth and sometimes still acted like an elfling, especially when it came to the feasts and festivals. It felt magical and she loved the concept of magic.

Tauriel took off her boots, her eyes on her bow and quiver that were already hooked up on the wall. Every time she held her bow or shot an arrow, she thought of the Queen. She was the first one who had educated her on the weapons. Eletha was the one who had sparked the fire and the passion for fighting in her heart. She was the one who taught her that ellith could be just as skilful and powerful as the ellyn. Tauriel loved the idea of the ellith defending themselves and on numerous occasions, she had protected and saved the lives of her fellow Guard members. She removed her outer travelling dress with the deep hood and her leather cuirass, leaving her in only her brown leather leggings and a thin green tunic that hung to her knees. She unwound the braids in her hair and let the copper-coloured tresses fall loose. Tauriel gathered all of her hair and draped it down her left shoulder. She was just about to start braiding it when there was a knock on the door. Curious, Tauriel moved to her door and opened it. She was surprised to see the King standing on the other side of the door, looking regal and beautiful as usual.

“Your Grace! Uh…good evening.” Tauriel gasped. Thranduil had to resist the urge to chuckle at the look of shock on Tauriel’s face. Her hazel eyes were wide and her cheeks almost turned the same shade as her hair.

“Good evening, Tauriel. I wish to tell you something. May I come in?” The King asked.

“Of course, Your Grace.” The elleth said with a shaky voice and opened the door further, allowing the King inside. Thranduil walked past Tauriel gracefully, his feet barely making a sound on the stone floor. Tauriel closed the door and stayed where she was, fiddling with her fingers awkwardly. The King had never come to her chambers on his own accord before. He normally sent a messenger or Maeklin. That was why Tauriel was shocked and a little anxious as to why he was here in her chambers. Thranduil looked around and thought that they were very nice chambers indeed, especially for a Silvan Elf like Tauriel. The bed was neatly made and a reasonable size, two Elves could easily sleep in it. There was a small wardrobe, a separate restroom and a small window that looked out into the Forest of Greenwood. By the wardrobe was a desk that was littered with hair clasps, a comb and a brush and other hair and make-up materials. And on the other side of the wardrobe was a full-length mirror that Thranduil could see his reflection in. He then realised that every second he was silent, the more he made Tauriel nervous.

“How is your training going, Tauriel?” He asked, turning around to face her.

“Really well, my King. I-I am enjoying every minute in being a member of the Guard.” Tauriel answered, her feet shuffling with apprehension. Her feelings were written on her face, it was like reading the cover of a book.

“There is no need to be frightened, Tauriel. You are not in trouble.” Thranduil said gently, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. His position on the bed was so angelic and beautiful. Sometimes, Tauriel actually found it hard to believe that he was a real person. But who could blame her really? The way the robes fell around his muscular physique. The way his face was structured, each bone chiselled and perfect. The way the rings shone on his long-fingered hands. The way his pale blonde hair changed from silver to gold depending on the sunlight or the moonlight.

“Tyaeron came to me tonight.” The King stated, his eyes never leaving Tauriel. The elleth nodded and clasped her fingers together in front of her tunic.

“He gave me a proposition.” He continued. The elleth just stared at him, her hair almost aglow like a flame in the golden light of the chambers.

“So I came to tell you, ask you actually, if you would do the Woodland Realm the honour of being the Captain of the Guard?”

Thranduil watched Tauriel’s face and body turn to stone. She looked like she had been frozen, her hazel eyes widening so much that he thought they would pop out of their sockets. She looked like she was shocked. And Tauriel was indeed shocked. Her hands became stone, her fingers not moving. The only movement that came from her was that her beautiful lips parted, unable to respond to what the King had just asked her. _Me? Captain? What?_ Tauriel absolutely loved being part of the Guard and protecting her home and the people that she cared for so deeply. But never had she thought that she would be offered the position of Captain. The amount of shock that she was feeling could not be described in neither actions nor words. If someone was to push her chest, she would fall backwards and she would have no control over it. That was how Tauriel felt. After about thirty seconds of this, Thranduil started to worry. He was concerned about her. She looked like her heart had stopped beating and she was merely a standing fresh corpse. The King rose from the bed and looked at her sweetly.

“Tauriel?”

She did not answer, her gaze on the King but she was not looking at him. It was like she did not even notice him, as if she was staring right through him.

“Tauriel? Are you OK?” He asked, stepping forward. His robes grazed the floor and Tauriel heard the sound of rich fabric on stone. She did not blink and she did not respond to his second question. Thranduil decided that he could not just keep on asking her if she was OK. He had to check himself. So he walked forward until he stood right in front of her. She was significantly shorter than him, at least 10 centimetres shorter than Eletha and Legolas. After all, Tauriel was a Silvan Elf and the majority of the time, they were shorter than the Sindar Elves. But Thranduil had never treated her as a lowly Elf. In fact, he saw Tauriel as his son’s equal in terms of combat and fighting. The King placed his left hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Tauriel? Speak to me.” He whispered softly. The young elleth finally blinked and raised her eyes to the King. They were still wide and glittering with surprise and shock. She opened her mouth and choked on her words, like a goldfish out of water.

“I-I-I do n-not k-know w-wh-what to say-y, m-my K-King.”

She really found it hard to talk. She was unsure of how to respond. The King was offering her a position that only went to the High Elves who were incredibly accomplished and who were far older than her, therefor having more experience in warfare and battles. Tauriel had only known one Captain and that was Tyaeron. She remembered when he educated her on past Captains of the Guard. The one thing that stood out to her was that all of them had been ellyn. There had not been one female Captain. And here, the King was giving her, a Silvan Elf, the opportunity to be the first female Captain in Greenwood’s history.

“I apologise, Tauriel. I should not hav e laid this on you so abruptly.” Thranduil said.

“No! Do not apologise, my King. You just…shocked me. Uh, me, Captain? Really?” Tauriel gulped, her mind and heart still trying to process the conversation she was having with the King.

“Yes, Tauriel, you. You are one of the most impressive and gifted members of the Guard and you are also one of the most talented warriors I have ever seen. You are better than some of the ellyn who have trained for far longer than you.” The King smiled gently, removing his hand from her shoulder. Tauriel looked from the hand that fell away from her shoulder to the Elf that it belonged to. She swallowed deeply and for the first time since Thranduil entered her chambers, the elleth smiled brightly.

“Do you really think so, Your Grace?”

“Tauriel, I _know_ so.” Thranduil smiled back and Tauriel saw his smile reach his crystalline eyes. Once, when she had first met him, Tauriel had been completely terrified of his eyes. Their unnerving colour and their sharpness, highlighting his thick dark eyebrows which was an odd but right contrast with his pale hair and skin. But now, she could easily see the friendliness that his eyes held. Tauriel had once seen his eyes sparkle with happiness and love many times, every time he had looked at Eletha. Tauriel remembered how distraught the King was during the funeral. Even though the way he held himself was strong and tough, inside was a weak ellon who was grieving for a lost love and who was on the brink of death himself. But the ellon who stood before seemed be stronger, not completely like he used to be, but he was on the way to being the person that he used to be. He was still healing from the inside and he would forever but each day he would heal, he would grow stronger. His toughness was returning and Tauriel could see that. She smiled up at him further, so surprised and grateful to hear him say such kind words.

“I swear you told me that Tyaeron came to you tonight with a proposition. Was his proposition me being Captain?” She asked. Thranduil took two steps back, just to give her some personal space.

“Yes, that is correct.”

“But don’t you elect the Captain?”

“Yes, that is also correct. But he just gave me an option that I probably would not have considered. I am glad that he gave me this option, Tauriel, because now I see that there is no better person to be Captain.” Thranduil smiled again, this time more gently. Tauriel looked down at the stone floor and shuffled her feet, her red hair flowing over her shoulders. She had to admit, she loved beating the ellyn in the training grounds. She remembered the first time she had fought Legolas. He was an experienced fighter and he was lethal with his white knives. But Tauriel discovered that he was not as lethal towards her. So, as a result, she had knocked him down on the grass, her daggers crisscrossed just over his pale throat. The look in his eyes, which were the exact same shade as his father’s, was something that Tauriel would never forget. How shocked he was, his perfect lips parted. The thought brought a soft smile to the elleth’s face.

“Is something funny, Tauriel?”

She heard the King’s rose and raised her head to look at him again. He was looking at her with one raised eyebrow, his ringed-hands clasped in front of him.

“I was just thinking about the time I knocked down the prince in the training grounds.” Tauriel said softly. And to her surprise, Thranduil smirked at that.

“I remember that. The look on his face was priceless. His friends would not stop teasing him about how he got beaten by a girl.”

“How long did the teasing go on for?” Tauriel asked.

“About a month.” The King smiled, remembering all the times that his son had come to him and whined about how his friends from teasing him. Legolas had wanted it to stop but it was not like Thranduil could do anything. He had told Legolas that he just had to ignore it and wait until his friends stopped. There was nothing else he could do.

“I guess I embarrassed him in front of his friends.” Tauriel whispered.

“There is nothing wrong with that. There is so much danger in this world, Tauriel. Laughter and happiness and jokes are sometimes the best things to take your mind off the evil things.” Thranduil said. Tauriel knew exactly what the King was alluding to but she did not say anything. Her patrols had now become more infrequent because she was young and Thranduil wanted to protect her. But on her patrols, she had seen the sickness spreading through the forest. The forest that she had grown up in. The forest that she loved. Tauriel saw the King’s face morph into one of concern and worry. So she decided to steer the conversation back to where it was before.

“About me being Captain, my King, aren’t I too young? I haven’t even reached my 400th nameday yet.”

“I am completely aware of your age, Tauriel. But I am willing to brush that aside. For someone so young, you show so much talent and skill. You still have a magical personality that is filled with sweetness and kindness. But on the other hand, you also have a fierce side that I have seen you unleash. And when that side of you is free, all hell breaks loose to our enemies. And right now, that is more important than ever.”

“What about the rest of the Woodland Realm? What would they think about you electing a Captain that is still considered a child and who is a Silvan Elf?” Tauriel asked.

“I am the King and whatever decision I make, the people just have to accept it. As you know, I adore the Silvan Elves. You may be tender in your age but in your fighting, you are definitely not.” Thranduil said, giving her another smile. Tauriel smiled back, the corners of her pink lips tugging up further.

“Also, I know that the Silvan Elves would be ecstatic to see a Silvan Captain. It is what Eletha would have wanted.”

Thranduil said her name without any hesitation at all. It was only after he had said it that his eyes widened. Tauriel’s breath hitched and she gulped deeply. It was the first time that he had mentioned her name in their conversation and a sudden awkwardness arose, floating just below the ceiling like a thin mist. Tauriel understood why he had said her name. Eletha had been a fantastic representative of the Silvan Elves, even before she was Queen. She showed how much the Silvan Elves cared for one another. How they cared for their family and friends more than they did themselves. Tauriel shared the same views. She cared more about the people that surrounded her than she cared about herself. She would gladly give her life for anyone that she loved. Then, Tauriel remembered that that was exactly what Eletha had done in the battle at Gundabad. Legolas had told her that his mother had died defending him. How she had pushed him out of the way and instead of him being vapourised by the dragon’s flame, it was Eletha instead.

“Your Grace…” Tauriel stuttered, not knowing what to say. _How can I console a King?_ She asked herself. Thranduil stood as still as a statue, his eyes wide, making them look even more penetrating. His hair remained still around his shoulders and his robes flowed down his body like they were a still body of water. Tauriel stepped forward and reached out to touch his hand but she pulled back hesitantly. _Am I even allowed to touch him?_ She thought but she did not know the answer to that question either. _Perhaps because he touched me, I can touch him._ She thought and went ahead with it. The elleth placed her hand over his, her hand quite small compared to his. His skin was just as pale as hers and as smooth as velvet but hard like stone. She looked up at him with friendly eyes.

“Your Grace…? Do you…need to sit down?” She asked. Thranduil snapped out of his stillness and blinked down at the red-haired elleth. Her hazel eyes seemed to glow green from the golden light in the chambers. Her hair looked like a flame that was living, burning brightly but causing no harm. Thranduil saw the elfling that he had saved in Shinal so many decades ago. The frightened look on her face, hugging her knees to her chest. He remembered how small she was next to him. How fragile she was. He still looked to Tauriel as a daughter. Even though he had a biological one, Tauriel still had a special place in his heart. She was one of his many children that he wanted to protect from the evil that was spreading throughout his home. Thranduil felt the pressure of her hand on his. He moved his right hand from underneath his left one and placed it on top of Tauriel’s.

“I am fine, Tauriel, but thank you for the offer.” He said, his eyes gentle and soft. Tauriel was relieved that the King spoke. Seeing him still was literally like staring at a rock.

“Still so young. You are still dependent on the magic of this world. And I fear that it will disappear from the encroaching evil.” Thranduil whispered, tightening his large hand around hers. Tauriel could not see her hand anymore. It was totally encased in the King’s one.

“Do not fear, my King. Magic will always live in the world, with or without evil.” Tauriel murmured. Thranduil looked down at her, surprised by her openness. Before, she had been sky and could not look him in the eye. And now, she was being so sincere with him. Like a daughter would be to her father.

“Magic will survive in you, daughter of the forest.”

“Magic will survive in all us Eldar, my King. Even you. I see how guarded you are now but inside, I know that there is an ellon who still clings onto the magic of the festivals and celebrations. We all do not see it but we all know that it is there, deep inside of you.” Tauriel said, her voice angelic and smooth. Then, Thranduil realised that she was right. She could read him. He did miss being carefree and happy. Drinking at festivals and dancing with his people. It was Eletha who had made him feel that way and now that she was gone, that part of him had died with her. Or so he had thought. Tauriel was right. Thranduil had loved the magic of the Eldar ever since he was an elfling. And Eletha had opened the window to him but now it was closed. It was locked. The key to the window had been lost but he could feel it inside him.

“My _adar_ told me something when I was younger. It has stuck with me ever since.” Tauriel said. Thranduil raised his thick eyebrows at her and he loosened his grip on her hand.

“ _Uuma ma' ten' rashwe, ta tuluva a' lle._ ”

Thranduil’s eyes widened at her statement. Tauriel thought that he was angry and she felt like she was going to melt with unease. But then, he smirked at her and his eyes glistened with an ethereal quality.

“Are you counselling me, _lissenen pen_?”

Tauriel’s lips parted but no words came out. Her face then turned a light pink, flushed with embarrassment. She looked down at the ground, breaking eye contact with the King. She could not look at him now. Tauriel felt his hand squeeze hers in measurement but she still did not look at him. She was sure that her cheeks had turned the same colour as her hair, her face also on fire.

“I…did not-no, I just…I, uh, I…” She stammered, her eyes still on the ground. Thranduil thought it was so adorable how stumped she was. Before he was the King, Tauriel thought that everything he said was serious but in this case, it was a joke and she did not pick up on it. That made her even more humiliated. Thranduil let go of her hand and placed her fingers underneath her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. He then rested his hand on the side of her face, keeping her head in the place.

“I know you were not counselling me. But nonetheless, it is good advice.”

The King once again shocked her that evening. She now saw the ellon that he truly was. Outside in the palace, he was cold and quiet, except when making announcements at gatherings in the main hall. But in private, he was the kind and caring person that he had always been. And Thranduil was not the only person who wanted Eletha back. Tauriel too wished she was still alive. The Queen had taught her so much and raised her as a daughter when Tauriel had no parents. But the main reason that Tauriel wanted Eletha back was to reawaken Thranduil again. Break the barrier of the cold exterior so that it would never return. And Tauriel was sure that she was not the only one who wished the same thing. No doubt that Legolas and Calarel wanted the same thing.

“So, we got a bit off topic, didn’t we?” Thranduil chuckled softly as his hand fell away from her face and Tauriel took her hand off his. She nodded and took a couple of steps back, moving a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

“You are young, Tauriel, but one of the finest soldiers to ever come into the palace. To me, it would be ridiculous not to offer you the highest position possible.” The King said. Tauriel simply stared at him, her hazel eyes softening.

“Would you like some time to think about your answer?” He asked her.

“I accept.” Tauriel stated bluntly. She was shocked by her own answer and so was Thranduil. He raised his eyebrows at her once again in surprise. He clapped his hands together and smiled.

“Well, that is great. We have a new Captain.”

Tauriel could not believe that she had answered so quickly. But then she realised the opportunities that being Captain would bring her. She would fight on the frontline. She would be one of the King’s closest confidants and advisors. She would be right there where the action would take place and she lived on that. Juicy battles, fuelled by revenge, filled with Orcs. The creatures that had destroyed her family.

“Uh, what happens now?” Tauriel asked.

“I will announce your agreement to be Captain tonight at the dinner in the hall. Therefore, you must come. If all goes well, your initiation ceremony will be in a week’s time.” Thranduil responded.

“And what happens at the initiation ceremony?”

“Tyaeron will educate you on everything that is required of you.” The King said, moving to the door. His arm brushed hers gently as he passed her. Tauriel turned around as he opened the door. He kept his left hand on the edge of the door as he looked at her.

“You will be a fantastic Captain, Tauriel. Dinner is in fifteen minutes.” He said and with a smile, he left, closing the door behind him. Tauriel just stood there for a few moments, completely stunned by what had just transpired. _I am really going to be Captain!_ Shock turned to excitement and she smiled, fighting the urge to jump up and down like a little elfling. She rushed to her wardrobe and went through her clothes, looking for the right gown.

 

**

 

The King sat on the royal table, the pointed crown on his head. He had changed his robes for something even more lavish. A silver high-necked tunic that showed off his chest with grey leggings and his red velvet coat, hanging off his broad shoulders beautifully. He had only eaten half of his food, simply because he was not hungry. Thranduil looked to his left where the Queen’s chair was vacant. No-one ever sat on it. It was never warm and sometimes, Thranduil could feel her spirit still sitting in the chair. The Elves of the palace were eating and conversing down below on the long tables that lined the large hall. Thranduil stared at the vacant chair beside him and suddenly, he saw her. Eletha looked transparent like she was a ghost. But he could make out her beautiful features. Her eyes were the brightest aspect of her, glowing like a green fire. Her lips smiled at him and she was clothed in a stunning red gown that was the same colour as his velvet coat. Thranduil did not realise how intense he was staring at her until his daughter leaned forward, breaking up Eletha’s spirit. The Queen’s chair separated the King and the princess and Eletha disappeared in wisps of transparency. The Queen’s face was replaced by Calarel’s who was a spitting image of her mother. She had reached full maturity over 200 years ago and she was absolutely beautiful. A young Elf maiden who was sure to have many ellyn ripping each other’s teeth out for her.

“ _Adar_? Are you alright?” Calarel asked, reaching out her hand across the table and placing it on top of his. Thranduil looked at her and saw that she was wearing the elk necklace that he had given her so many years ago.

“I am fine, sweetheart. Do not worry about me.” Thranduil smiled gently but unlike the time it reached his eyes when he was talking to Tauriel earlier that evening, it did not now.

“I always worry about you, _Adar_.” The princess said before returning to her food, a glass of red wine ready to be drunk by her plate. Legolas sat on his other side and next to the prince was Tyaeron and beside him was Lord Annotal. Once, there were six who sat at the royal table but now, there were only five. But the Queen’s spirit still echoed around the palace every day and every night. Thranduil clutched his glass of wine with his right hand and took a sip. His eyes scanned the hall until he found Tauriel. She was sitting with some members of the Guard who she had become firm friends with. She was laughing at something that Sarolan had told her and her hair was glowing like a fire, just like the flamed torches that sat on the walls.

The rest of the dinner proceeded well. When everyone was eating fruit salad and cream for dessert, Thranduil stood up and called for silence with a clap of his hands. Each and every pair of eyes in the room went to the King, their food now forgotten. Tauriel had never felt so nervous. Her stomach was twisted in knots and she prayed that she would not throw up. The King looked at Tyaeron who nodded his head as Calarel and Legolas stared up at their kingly father.

“ _’Quel undome_ , my lords and ladies. Bad change has occurred in the Forest of Greenwood but there is still goodness here. Tonight, I have the honour of declaring that there will be a new Captain of the Guard come next week.”

There were hushed whispers and murmurs, flooding the hall. Tauriel did not look away from the King, her heartbeat increasing with each passing second which felt like an hour to her.

“Tyaeron wishes to resign from his post and he told me who he thought would be best to succeed him.” Thranduil continued. Tyaeron looked out at the Elves that sat on the long tables. He spotted Melda and Valpantiel sitting next to each other. His beloved’s violet eyes were wide with shock and her lips were contorted in what looked like a mixture of surprise and anger.

“My lords, my ladies, for the first time in Greenwood’s history, I have the honour of stating that the next Captain is a female and she is also Silvan.”

There were more hushed murmurs and whispers, the crowd trying to figure out who it was. The two royal children stared at each other past their father’s body that blocked the two of them. Legolas opened his mouth to whisper something to his sister but he never got to whisper anything. He found Calarel staring at someone intensely, her emerald eyes shining. The prince followed his sister’s gaze and he too went into shock.

There was no mistaking how red Tauriel’s face was. She resembled almost a bright red tomato, making her hazel eyes appear more green. It was obvious that the Elves around her had also noticed and in a matter of seconds, every single Elf on her table was staring at Tauriel. And it did not help with Tauriel’s blushing face.

“The next Captain of the Guard, following Tyaeron, will be Tauriel, the daughter of the forest.” Thranduil declared with confidence and a happy sparkle in his piercing eyes. Then, every single Elf in the hall was looking at her. Tauriel felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out again. She wanted to hide under the table and never resurface. Thranduil looked at Tauriel and saw how red she was. He suddenly felt terrible for making her so uncomfortable. It was plain as day to see what her feelings were.

“Tauriel, please come up here.” He ordered, beckoning her with his hand. As expected, the elleth did not move. It was like she was glued to her seat and she could not get up. Legolas cursed his father inside his head. _For Valar’s sake, Adar, why did you have to embarrass her like that?_ He wanted to just go over to Tauriel, take her in his arms and led her out of the hall to somewhere quiet. But he could not bring himself to. And to everyone’s surprise, it was the princess who decided to make a move. Calarel rose from her chair and walked across the hall, her green gown matching her eyes. Everyone watched as the princess reached Tauriel and took one of her hands. No-one was more surprised than Tauriel.

“Come, _mellon-nin_.” Calarel whispered, tugging on Tauriel’s hand. The elleth with red hair looked up at the princess and finally allowed herself to stand. Calarel was about seven centimetres taller than Tauriel but their height difference did nothing to damage their close friendship. They were more like sisters really. The princess smiled at Tauriel softly and led her up to the royal table. Legolas and Tauriel shared a quick glance but when the elleth broke her gaze to look at the King, the prince kept his eyes to Tauriel. Legolas knew how skilful she was and what a valued member of the Guard she was but he never imagined that his father would appoint her as the Captain, especially at such a young age. Calarel halted next to her father and moved back to her seat. Tauriel swallowed as the King placed his hand on her shoulder and addressed the crowd.

“Tauriel’s initiation ceremony will take place this time next week. I ask all of you to attend and in the coming days, congratulate this young elleth. She will, and already has, made history here in Greenwood.”

Tauriel looked out at the many Elves, her cheeks hot and pink. Legolas cursed his father again in his head. _Adar, do not embarrass her further. Can you not see how uncomfortable she looks?_ Meanwhile, Calarel was smiling. She was beyond pleased that Tauriel was going to be Captain. The princess had admired her fighting abilities and part of her wanted to be like Tauriel because the way she fought reminded Calarel of her mother. But she knew that her father would never allow it. He already had a son who was a member of the Guard and he did not need or want his daughter to do the same. Calarel had a feeling that her father appointed Tauriel as Captain in honour of his late Queen. To display his love for the Silvan Elves and to show how much he valued the ellith who were skilled in combat. The princess looked at her older brother and saw that he could not take his eyes off Tauriel. The way his bright blue eyes sparkled was the exact same way her father’s eyes sparkled when he had looked at Eletha. It was a look of adoration…and love.

The crowed then slowly broke out into applause and some of her friends, who were also in the Guard, started whooping and cheering. Hearing them do so made Tauriel feel better and finally, a beautiful smile broke those perfect lips of hers. Thranduil looked down at Tauriel and was pleased to see that she was grinning widely yet her cheeks were still fairly red. He was relieved that the Elves responded with cheering and applauding. _At least this change will be a good one._ The King thought as his hand squeezed the red-haired elleth’s shoulder.

 

**

 

Tauriel returned to her chambers after the dinner only to find Prince Legolas waiting for her. He was sitting on her bed, his hair glowing gold in the light and his crystalline eyes shone like pale blue crystals. He was the perfect embodiment of his father.

“My prince! I…This is a surprise.” Tauriel smiled, fixing her deep jade green gown.

“Tauriel, _mellon-nin_ , how many times have I told you to call me Legolas?” The prince chuckled, his eyes roaming over her body. The dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right ways and the colour of the fabric matched her hazel eyes and red hair. Legolas was fleetingly distracted as he stared at the elleth in front of him. Tauriel could see the look on his face and she blushed, playing with a loose strand of her hair. She had never been used to male attention unless it had got to do with training and being a member of the Guard. But the way that Legolas was staring at her was male attention on a totally different level that Tauriel was uncomfortable with. Like he was undressing her with his eyes.

“Very well,…Legolas.” His name rolled off her tongue beautifully and the prince felt shivers run down his spine like a river of flowing water. Legolas decided to change the atmosphere into something less awkward.

“Congratulations on being selected as the next Captain.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Legolas. You should really thank Tyaeron and His Grace. They made all of this possible for me.”

“Your talent and skills are far too valuable to not display. I have no doubt that you will be an excellent Captain.” Legolas said, the smile still on his face. _He does have a beautiful smile. And his teeth are perfect._ Tauriel thought. He was just as attractive as his father but he smiled more. His gaze was more softer and the smiles he gave reached his eyes. The awkwardness returned and neither of them knew what to do or what to say next. Tauriel was certain that Legolas felt something for her that was deeper than friendship. She did not know how to respond to his feelings. She had always been close to the prince since he had befriended her when she was an elfling but her emotions had never surpassed the feeling of friendship. Tauriel thought of Legolas as a brother. She was not attracted to him in a romantic or sexual way. She treated him like family, considering she had none. Legolas, however, felt differently. He still was protective of her, even though he knew full well that she could defend herself. His protection for her used to be the one that an ellon had for his younger sister but not anymore. He was defensive of her in the way that an ellon would feel for his lover. For the elleth that he loved and cared for so deeply. He stared at Tauriel, his blue eyes locking to her hazel ones. _She really is beautiful. Why must I fall for her? She will never fall for me so what is the point?_ Legolas’s thoughts swirled in his mind. Like any ellon who loved an elleth, he feared rejection. Because Elves only loved once. And Legolas had never felt this way about anyone else before. Tauriel was the only elleth that had captured his attention. _How would my father react if he found out that I loved Tauriel? I know that my mother would be overjoyed. But my father… He has changed._ The prince had noticed the change in his father’s demeanour. Thranduil still smiled but they weren’t the same smiles that he used to give. There was a coldness and a sadness in the King’s eyes and Legolas had seen it. The Queen’s death had been over 3 centuries ago but everyone still grieved. No-one more so than the King. Legolas thought it was a miracle that his father did not perish after Eletha’s death. _He must have decided that he still has something to live for._ The prince thought.

Tauriel could see that Legolas was thinking about something but she decided not to ask, not wanting to make the situation even more uncomfortable. She walked to her dressing table and took off her necklace. She rested the pendant in the palm of her hand, the white jewel sparkling in the dim light like a small star. It had been a present for her 100th nameday from the King. To celebrate her reaching full maturity. It sparkled like starlight because after all, Tauriel was a Wood-Elf and Wood-Elves loved the light of the stars the most. Just like Eletha had. Tauriel put the necklace on the table and fixed the collar of her dress. She was starting to get a little hot and she feel beads of sweat forming on her neck.

“So how do you feel about bossing the boys around now?” Tauriel heard Legolas ask. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

“Very good. I am all for female empowerment.”

“Do you think you can boss me around? I am the prince, son of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.” Legolas smirked, rising from his position on the bed and puffing out his chest in an attempt to imitate his father.

“Your father is not _that_ pompous.” Tauriel said, turning around to face Legolas, her hands resting on the edge of the table behind her.

“Then you do not know him very well, Tauriel. He was very pompous when he was my age.”

“He has matured, Legolas. He was born and bred to be a King. He did not have a simple life like I did. Sometimes, I get the feeling that he wished that he did.” Tauriel said, lowering her eyes to the stone floor. Legolas’s expression narrowed and his dark eyebrows (not as thick as his father’s) knitted together.

“Why would you get that feeling?”

“Because he cares for us Silvan Elves so much. Much more than the other Sindar Elves of the other Elvendoms here on Arda. No-one could be more brave to take a Silvan Elf as a bride and make an important Queen. By falling in love with…your mother and making her a Queen displayed his deep affection for us. He appreciated us. He still does. And I have seen a softness in his eyes, Legolas, when he looks at me or any other Silvan Elf.”

“That is because he thinks of you as a daughter, Tauriel. Why else would he give you a necklace like that one?” Legolas said, gesturing to the necklace with the pure white jewel that sat behind her on the desk. Tauriel bit on her lower lip and glanced at the stunning piece of jewellery.

“My father gives presents like that to his loved ones only. He loves you as if you were his own child. You were his daughter before my sister came along. But his affection for you has not changed. I believe that it has only grown because now, you have been elected as Captain.”

“I was pleasantly surprised that he even offered me the position.” Tauriel murmured, turning her gaze back to the prince.

“Believe me, I was too. But I also believe that it was the best offer for him to make.”

The elleth did not miss the faint blush that crept along the prince’s pale cheeks. And that made her blush too. Legolas wondered if his father had been this way when he fell for Eletha. The prince had seen the loving looks that his parents gave to each other every day. He wished that one day he would give those same looks to an elleth that he desired for his own. And Legolas desired Tauriel.

He stepped up to her slowly until he stood right in front of her. Tauriel looked up at him as he hesitantly reached out his hand. He stroked her fair cheek with the back of his hand and Tauriel flinched but did not pull away. Her skin was warm and soft, as smooth as velvet. Tauriel’s heart started to beat faster and louder, thumping against her chest. Legolas was so close to her. _This should not be allowed. I should not be this close to him. Especially in private._ She ranted inside her head. Her eyes went to his hand which he had turned around so that his palm rested on her jaw and his thumb stroked the apple of her cheek. Tauriel felt the blood rise to the surface and she blushed, just as furiously as the colour of her hair. Legolas smiled down at her gently, his gaze tender. He was an attractive ellon. Tauriel did not deny it but she was not intersected in him in that way. _He is my friend. And only my friend._ She told herself. The golden light flickered in the prince’s crystalline eyes which held so much adoration and dedication. Emotions that Tauriel had never seen Legolas give her. She was lost for words. Her lips parted when she realised that the prince was leaning down, titling his head to the side. She kept her eyes to his, widening even more with every millimetre that he got closer. _He is going to kiss me!_ Tauriel cried in her mind as her fingers tightened on the edge of her desk behind her. She was afraid that she was going to break her nails. She was a frozen statue. She did not move. Her mind was not working. Legolas thought that this night was the perfect night to kiss her for the first time. After all, he had waited for over 200 years. He wanted to feel her perfect pink lips pressed against his. To feel her breath enter his mouth. To see the same love reciprocated in her hazel eyes. But Legolas’s dreams were dashed when Tauriel pulled back and moved past him, her shoulder brushing his arm. The prince lowered his eyes to the ground and did not say anything. Tauriel heard him breathing and raised her hand to her mouth. His lips had been mere millimetres away from her own. She did not love him. She would never love him. At least not in the way that he loved her. Her heart continued to beat fast. It would take time for it to slow down. The elleth was still in shock. She was confused. Her body was riddled with a dozen different emotions that were muddling with her mind. Legolas looked up from the floor and saw his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes were fraught with rejection and surprise. His face was a picture of sadness and love. The revelation was finally shown to him. He knew now. _Tauriel does not love me. She will never love me._

Legolas did not want to make the situation even more uncomfortable or stuff it up even more than he already had so he left the chambers without a single word to the elleth that he still wanted for his own. Tauriel heard him leave but did not move from her spot. Her hand was still on her mouth and her body was shaking a little from head to toe, her hair rippling down her back. She closed her eyes and fell tears well up. She remembered the feel of his thumb caressing her cheek. It had awakened something inside of her. But it was not love for Legolas. It was that she could feel love for someone. But that someone would never be the prince. Tauriel felt the tears run down her cheeks but she did not know what emotion they held.

That night, it took Tauriel hours to get to sleep. She could not stop thinking about Legolas’s advancement. The look of love in his eyes. The warmth that his face held. Usually, Tauriel went to sleep dreaming about her future in the Woodland Guard. But on this night, her only company were her tears.

 

**

 

A week had passed and it was the day of Tauriel’s initiation ceremony. She was so excited. Instead of tears running down her cheeks like there were seven days ago, there were happy smiles that beautified her face. Because she was going to be Captain, the King had given her a new handmaiden. Her name was Itarielle and she and Tauriel had already become very good friends. Itarielle was a Sindar Elf who was about 100 years Tauriel’s senior but like Tauriel, she clung onto the magic of the forest that was slowly degrading. Her hair was like silver but shined like gold in the sunlight. Her eyes were a deep turquoise, a mixture between blue and green, and her skin was a perfect porcelain.

On the morning of the ceremony, Itarielle woke up Tauriel and got her ready for possibly the most important day of the Silvan Elf’s life. Itarielle helped her friend dress into her green Guard clothes, which had been washed and cleaned the night before, with a pair of brown leather leggings and matching knee-high boots. The top-half of her hair was done up in a braided Silvan fashion, leaving the rest of her red locks to cascade down to her back past her waist. Her make-up was done to perfection, enhancing her hazel eyes and pale skin. To finish off her look, Tauriel strapped on her two twin daggers at the small of her back. She did not need her quiver or her bow at the present time. As Itarielle combed Tauriel’s long hair for the last time, there was a knock at the door. Tauriel feared it was Legolas but she was wrong. When Itarielle opened the door, the elleth smiled when she saw the princess.

The King’s daughter looked stunning. She was clothed in a dark red gown that fell to the floor, concealing her feet. It covered her chest and had vine embroidery on the shoulders. The sleeves were long and pointed, falling to her knees, the ends fringed with leaf tassels. Her make-up was beautiful, her eyes a sparkling emerald green and her skin fair and gorgeous. Her long chocolate brown hair had been parted in the middle and done up in two large buns, one on either side of her head. It was unusual for Elves to do their hair up but not uncommon. She still looked like a princess because she had a simple gold circlet on her head and the fabric of her dress echoed royalty.

“My princess, good morning.” Tauriel bowed her head, her hand on her chest. Itarielle did the same.

“Good morning, _melloneamin_. I have come to walk with you to the main hall, Tauriel.” Calarel said, a sweet smile spreading across her attractive face. Tauriel nodded and gave Itarielle a hug before leaving her chambers with the princess. Calarel hooked her arm through Tauriel’s as they walked through the halls of the palace.

“Are you excited?” She asked.

“Yes, I am, princess.”

“Tauriel, I am your friend. Please call me by my name.” The princess smiled, tightening her hold on the red elleth’s arm.

“OK, Calarel.” Tauriel smiled.

“This is so exciting! The first female Captain! And a Silvan one! You are definitely going into the history books, my friend.”

“I think you are more excited than me, Calarel. I sometimes forgot that you are actually younger than me.” Tauriel giggled.

“I am just so happy to see a female Captain. My mother would be ecstatic if she was here.” Calarel said sadly, even though she had a smile on her face. Tauriel found it much easier to talk to the princess about the Queen because she was full of mourning like the King was. And because Calarel was an elleth, they could talk about Eletha easily. Whenever her name was mentioned, Thranduil’s face went rigid and all the happiness in Legolas’s eyes faded. But with Calarel, Tauriel could freely talk about the Queen.

“I am sure she would be.” Tauriel smiled. She did miss the Queen. Eletha had been a mother figure to Tauriel because she was still growing up. She had been learning about life and the Queen helped her do that.

The main hall was bustling with many Elves when Tauriel and Calarel arrived. The only people were absent were Maeklin and Thranduil. It was too early for wine so juices and punches of different flavours sat in large glass jugs on the tables. Calarel caught sight of Melda, Tyaeron and Valpantiel and dragged Tauriel over to them. On her way there, Tauriel spotted Legolas. He stood on the other side of the hall, a goblet of punch in his hand. He was talking with Sarolan, using his free hand to make gestures. Then, he looked in her direction and froze. His blue eyes widened and Tauriel could see his fingers tighten around his goblet. Tauriel shot him an apologetic smile and a bow of her head before being pulled along by the princess. Sarolan got Legolas’s attention and the two ellyn resumed their conversation but Legolas processed only half of his friend’s words because his mind was suddenly filled with images of Tauriel the week before when he had tried to kiss her.

“Tauriel!”

Melda’s voice was loud amongst the other Elves and she was known for being loud. The Elves had just accepted that it was a part of her personality and they couldn’t change it about her. Tauriel smiled as the golden-haired elleth hugged her tightly. Melda was so happy for Tauriel. She deserved the position. Melda knew that. She had trained her, as had Tyaeron, and she felt proud that one of her most accomplished students was about to assume the most important position in the protection of the Woodland Realm.

“I’m so proud of you, _mellon-nin_.” Melda whispered.

“Thank you, Melda. And thank you, Tyaeron. Thank you for training me. I would not be here, becoming Captain, without you.” Tauriel grinned as Tyaeron embraced her. It was when Tauriel was sharing a hug with Valpantiel that Maeklin entered the hall and introduced the King. The hall went silent as the regal fair-haired ellon appeared.

Thranduil was also a magnificent sight to behold. Anyone with eyes could see that he was a flawless representation of perfection. His tall muscular body was attired in his silver brocade dress with his matching robe over the top, the colours of orange and purple merging perfectly with the silver. Leggings and knee-high leather boots only intensified his height and his hands were decorated with ring, his oaken staff in his right hand. His hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back like rivers of pale gold and his pointed crown was decorated with white flowers and green leaves instead of red berries and autumn leaves because Spring had fallen over Greenwood Forest.

It was when the King walked the length of the hall that Tauriel realised that all of the tables were pushed to the sides of the hall to leave a large area in the middle. She finally saw how many Elves were in the hall and her stomach started to fill up with nervous butterflies. She saw Legolas walk up to where his father was and stood next to him at the end of the hall. Tauriel felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked to her left to see Calarel giving her a comforting smile. The princess gave her friend’s shoulder a squeeze before joining her father and brother. Tyaeron followed Calarel, leaving Tauriel with the two golden-haired sisters. The time was close and with every second, Tauriel got even more nervous. Her hands began to tremble and the butterflies fluttered even harder, making her feel sick. _No! I must not pass out or be sick!_ She told herself. Melda looked at the red-haired elleth and saw the look of anxiety that washed over her face. She pressed her lips together and slid her hand into Tauriel’s, their fingers lacing together. Melda felt Tauriel squeeze her hand and she squeezed it back in reassurance.

The King’s eyes scanned the hall until he found Tauriel. She looked beautiful in her green Guard clothes which contrasted beautifully with the bright copper shade of her silken hair. She looked incredibly nervous and frankly, Thranduil could not blame her. But he knew that she was the right person for the position. He knew that his wife would be so proud of Tauriel and enthusiastic about the red-haired Silvan elleth being the first female Captain. The prince followed his father’s gaze and his face went rigid.

“She looks nervous.”

“Of course she is, Legolas. I cannot blame her either. This is a first in Greenwood’s history.” Thranduil stated. He looked away from Tauriel and his attention became focused on his son. The prince never broke his eyes away from the elleth with red hair and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. The King narrowed his eyes.

“Is something wrong, Legolas?” He asked. Legolas did not answer. He continued to stare at Tauriel and pretended not to hear his father’s question. All he could remember was the look of shock on the elleth’s face when he had tried to make a move on her a week before. He greeted and was happy that he had done it at the same time because he now knew that she did not want him in the same way that he wanted her. But Legolas was not going to stop. He knew how he felt for her and that would not just disappear from his heart.

“Legolas, _ion-nin_ , has something happened between you and Tauriel?”

The prince finally tore his eyes away from the elleth that he desired and looked up at his father.

“No, _Adar_. Everything is fine.” Legolas answered and clasped his hands together behind his back. It was a lie and Thranduil knew it. He was not stupid. But he did not want to interrogate his son further. Now was not the time. Today was about Tauriel and the acknowledgment of her achievements.

“ _’Quel amrun_ , my lords and ladies.”Thranduil declared loudly. The hall silenced at the sound of his voice and dozens of pairs of eyes were looking right at him.

“The time has come. It is time for the official initiation ceremony of our new Captain of the Guard. Tauriel, would you come up here please?”

He saw her eyes widen and because of an Elf’s keen sense of sight, he also saw her swallow deeply with nervousness. Tauriel reluctantly let go of Melda’s hand and the sea of Elves created a path for her to get to the main aisle.

“Today, Greenwood will make history. The first female Captain and the first Silvan Captain. This piece of history is sure to be written down for the generations to read in the future. In the past 500 years, ellith have shown that they can be just as formidable and dangerous as the ellyn. And our new Captain is a perfect example of that.” Thranduil smiled gently as Tauriel walked towards him slowly. All she cared about was not falling over her feet or passing out. It was an important moment for her and she did not want to ruin it. Not just for herself but for all the Elves that were present.

She stopped at the bottom of the small steps that led up to where the three royals and Tyaeron were standing. Tauriel knew what to do. Tyaeron had told her. She bowed individually to the four people that stood above her, saying ‘Thank you’ in Elvish and placing her hand over her heart as she bowed. She then stood in front of Thranduil who told her to kneel and she did so. The King drew one of his long swords and descended the small steps to Tauriel. Her right hand rested on her bent knee and he could see that it was paler than usual. She was still trembling with unease but the ceremony was still going on. It was not finished yet.

Thranduil raised his long sword and placed it on her left shoulder. Tauriel told herself not to flinch and she gulped deeply as the coolness of the metal seeped through her clothing.

“Do you, Tauriel, daughter of the forest, swear to protect Greenwood and its inhabitants?” The King asked. Tauriel raised her eyes from the stone floor and looked up at Thranduil. Tyaeron had told her to look at the King while pledging her vows and her service.

“I swear.” She said.

“Do you swear to shield and guard the Woodland Realm from dangers, both outside and within?”

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to pledge your service to the Guard of the Elvenking and give your life for another’s if need be?”

“I swear.” Tauriel said for the third time.

“Do you swear it by the Gods?”

“I do. I am the sword in the light and in the darkness. I am the shield that guards Greenwood. I pledge my life to the safety of Greenwood from this day until my dying breath.” Tauriel said, her hazel eyes locked to the King’s crystalline blue ones. Thranduil moved his long sword from Tauriel’s left shoulder to her right shoulder.

“I, Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of Greenwood the Great, dub you Captain Tauriel of the Woodland Guard. You shall have my approval of protecting my realm. Your sword is now mine. Your service is to me and the Woodland Guard.”

Legolas looked down at Tauriel and the tiniest of smiles ghosted over his thin lips. Calarel’s smile was much larger and her emerald eyes glittered with happiness. Tyaeron looked down at Tauriel with admiration. Melda and Valpantiel had their arms hooked through one another and were smiling at their young friend became history. Thranduil sheathed his long sword and opened his arms wide, his palms facing the crowd.

“Rise, Tauriel, Captain of the Elvenking’s Woodland Guard.” He pronounced. The hall suddenly became filled with applause as Tauriel rose from her kneeling position. She saw that the King was smiling at her and she could not help but smile back. The red-haired elleth turned around to face to the applauding Elves and she bowed to them, professing that she would protect them all with her life.

Thranduil looked at his son and did not miss the look of sadness in his eyes. He knew that something was troubling him and that it was something to do with Tauriel. The King decided that he would ask Legolas at a later time but he would find out soon enough what exactly was upsetting the prince.

 

Elvish Translations

  * ‘Quel undome – Good evening

  * Adar – Father

  * melamin – my love

  * lle tyava quel? – do you feel well?

  * adar – father

  * Uuma ma' ten' rashwe, ta tuluva a' lle – Don’t look for trouble, it will come to you

  * lissenen pen – sweet one

  * mellon-nin – my friend

  * melloneamin – my friends

  * ion-nin – my son

  * ’Quel amrun – Good morning




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how the Captain of the Guard is chosen or how the ceremony is initiated so I made it up. And we’ve reached 101 pages on Word already!! I sincerely hope that you enjoyed the long update because I’m taking a hiatus for two weeks so Chapter 8 will be posted on the 1st of January. But I will post Chapter 25 of Passion With Mr. Pace on Monday :) I wish you all a very Merry Christmas (I want to leave you guys alone to celebrate it next Friday) and I’ll see you on the first day of 2016 :)


	8. A Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil goes to Erebor to talk with King Thrór. Their meeting is not a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back and Happy New Year, my dear readers! I hope you all have an amazing 2016! And to start off the year, a 6,500+ word chapter! There’s another time jump but we are officially in The Hobbit timeline now! This chapter is from An Unexpected Journey with my extra bits added on. Well, sort of, it’s set a couple of decades before Smaug attacks Erebor.

40 years later

 

The box was empty. It had been empty for centuries. But Thranduil could still imagine the necklace made of white gems sitting in the silk, sparkling in the light. He remembered the look of sadness that had flashed across his wife’s face when she had told him that the necklace was broken. She had loved that necklace and so did Thranduil. It was a piece of jewellery that was only befit for a royal. For a Queen. The Dwarves had done a magnificent job in creating the necklace. The design of it, Thranduil had given the Dwarves the design, was beautiful. White gems strung upon a chain of silver. But it no longer sat in the box that was in Thranduil’s lap. It was somewhere far far away from where he was now. It angered Thranduil that the Dwarves may be touching it with their thick grubby fingers. It belonged to him now and he had paid for it to be made. Yet the Dwarves had not returned the necklace to him. So Thranduil decided in that moment that the only way to retrieve the white-gem necklace was to confront the Dwarves himself.

He shut the box lid, harder than he had intended, and placed the box back in the lowest drawer by his bed. The King stood up, fixed his silver robes and left his chambers to inform the previous Captain of his objective.

It was just after dinner so the majority of the Elves were in their chambers but some of them were taking a leisurely stroll through the hall. They bowed and curtsied for the King as he passed them but he did not say anything to them. He was on an urgent errand and he could not afford to have any delays. After five minutes, Thranduil finally reached his friend’s chambers and knocked on the door thrice quickly. After a few seconds, the door opened and a pair of sea-green eyes stared into his own pale blue ones.

“Your Grace! What a surprise.”

“Hello, Tyaeron. I need to speak to you about something. Right now. It cannot wait.” Thranduil said hurriedly. Tyaeron was a little bit confused as to why the King was so jittery but he opened the door further as an invitation.

“Well, please come in, my King.”

Thranduil nodded at Tyaeron and swept into the chambers, his robes swishing about his feet. Tyaeron had moved chambers since Tauriel had now taken residence in the Captain’s chambers. He had moved back into his own ones that he had had before he was Captain. Fortunately, they were just across the hall from Melda’s so they could visit each other when they wanted to. Tyaeron’s chambers were spacious enough with a medium-sized bed, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a full-length mirror and two desks with a window on the wall beside the bed. Tyaeron closed the door as soon as the King entered and turned to look at him.

“What is it that you wish to speak to me about, Your Grace?”

“Tyaeron, please. In private, you may use my name.” Thranduil said with a gentle smile. Tyaeron nodded and told himself to call the King by his name the next time he spoke.

“I came here to tell you that I wish to journey to Erebor the day after tomorrow.”

Tyaeron’s eyes widened momentarily and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“May I ask why, Thranduil?”

The King smiled when Tyaeron said his name. They were friends, after all. And friends called each other by their names, right?

“It has been nearly half a millennia since I last went there. I have dealings with the Dwarves of Erebor that must be resolved. I have waited too long already.”

The King lowered his eyes when he spoke the last sentence. It was true. He had waited too long. Far too long. He wanted those gems back. He wanted them to sit back in the box. Thranduil would rather have them hang around his wife’s neck but she was gone now so the best place for the necklace was in the box that he first gave the necklace to Eletha. Thranduil would give it to his daughter if he wished but at the moment, he simply wanted the necklace back in his possession.

“As you wish, Thranduil. Would you like me to inform Tauriel about this?” Tyaeron asked.

“Tauriel is still young, Tyaeron. You may tell her of this and help her assemble 80 of the Guard for our trip but she cannot come with us.” Thranduil stated.

“But, Your Grace! She is the Captain. She needs to see the world. I am certain that she would love to journey to a whole new place. A whole new culture.”

“I have a feeling that my son would not allow it. And neither will I. Tauriel will remain here with my children and train the remaining Guard members.” His tone became that of a King, strong and demanding. Tyaeron could not bite back. He lived to serve his King and he had to follow his orders, even if he thought differently.

“Very well, Your G-I mean, Thranduil. I shall tell her tomorrow morning.” Tyaeron bowed his head.

“Very good. _Diola lle_ , Tyaeron.” Thranduil said without a smile and he left the chambers, his robes flowing out behind him as he walked, leaving Tyaeron alone again, wondering why the King _really_ wanted to travel to Erebor.

 

**

 

Thranduil felt bad that he had snapped at Tyaeron so bluntly. He did not mean to. He simply did not want to lay the situation of the necklace on his friend. _I will tell him on the journey there._ Thranduil told himself. He walked through the palace’s halls by himself but he was not returning to his chambers. He was going to see his daughter. The King could only imagine the sadness in her eyes when he would tell her that he will be gone for a few days. He hated making his children upset but this journey had to be undertaken.

He reached the princess’s chambers and knocked on the door. Unlike Tyaeron, she did not open the door. She spoke instead.

“Come in.”

The King’s daughter was still young, younger than Tauriel, so she did not feel the need to check who was at the door first. She just told them to come in. This worried Thranduil a little. _What if the person she allowed to enter was an assassin? What if it was a murderer? A stranger?_ Tarrol had not made any attempt on the royal family in centuries but Thranduil knew that he still lurked out there, waiting to strike. No doubt that he had heard of the Queen’s death so the idea of wiping out another one of the royal family frightened Thranduil. He knew that Tarrol would aim for his children, just to bring him even more everlasting pain and grief. Nevertheless, Thranduil opened the door and his eyes fell upon his daughter.

Calarel was sitting up against the wooden headboard of her bed, a large thick book in her lap. She had changed out of her evening dress and was wearing a silk nightgown that bared her lower legs. A forest green robe was draped over her shoulders and the sleeves covered her arms down to her wrists. She had also taken her hair down so it fell loose in its long locks over her shoulders, all over her body. Calarel looked up from the book and her face lit up like it was her nameday.

“ _Adar_!” She cried and closed the book, a smile spreading across her perfect pink lips. Thranduil smiled back and shut the door behind him.

“Good evening, _iell-nin_. What are you reading?” He asked, walking over to her and sitting down on the edge of her bed. Calarel picked up the heavy book in her delicate hands and rested it on her lap, the cover facing Thranduil. He read the words that were printed on the cover in loopy letters.

“ _A History of the Mythical Creatures of Middle-Earth_.” He said. Calarel nodded and smiled. Thranduil remembered reading it before the battle at Gundabad. That was so long ago now but the pain of the Elves that perished there was still fresh. It was where he had lost his great love. He remembered reading the chapter on dragons and how frightened he had been about potentially facing those fearsome creatures. And ultimately he did. But at a great cost. Calarel noticed an expression of grief wash over her father’s face and her bottom lip began to quiver. She hated seeing her father upset but she could not exactly do anything to stop him from being mournful. She could try but nothing would ever work in the long-term. Thranduil blinked away his tears, determined not to let them fall down his cheeks, and smiled at his beloved daughter.

“Are you enjoying it? The book?” He asked her, nodding to the book that she had placed back in her lap. The smile returned to Calarel’s flawless face.

“Yes, I am. It is very interesting to learn about the creatures that live, and used to live, in this world. I do remember that you told me about fairies and how I was even more beautiful than a fairy.”

“Valar, that was a long time ago! You were just an elfling back then. And you were more beautiful than a fairy. You still are, my dear. You will always be beautiful.” Thranduil whispered and reached out his hand, wrapping his long fingers around one of his daughter’s palms. Calarel sniffled and her eyes glittered with both happiness and sadness, the corners of her lips tugging up in a gentle smile that echoed sorrow. Thranduil knew that Calarel was already upset and he was about to give her news that would dismay her even further. He dreaded it but he had to tell her.

“Calarel, my darling, I have to tell you something.” He said, lowering his eyes to his hand that was encasing the princess’s. Calarel adjusted her position on her bed, shuffling to get comfortable as she waited for her father to speak. She felt the King tighten his grip on her hand and her heart began to worry. Thranduil looked up and Calarel saw that her father’s pale blue eyes shone with apology.

“I have to go to Erebor in two days’ time.”

At first, the princess did not understand what her father had just said. And then, her face went still. As still as a statue. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, wide and bright green. Thranduil felt her hand squeeze his. It was the only indication to him that she was still alive. Then, she blinked and pushed the heavy book off of her lap. Calarel placed her other hand on top of her father’s and held it tightly as if her life depended on it.

“Why?”

It was a simple question and Thranduil answered it immediately.

“I have matters to attend to with the Dwarves. I have not been to Erebor for a very long time. I need to go to and see how our relations with the Dwarves are. I will only be gone for about three or four days.”

Calarel blinked repeatedly at the King, getting rid of the tears but her eyes still shone with fresh ones and her bottom lip trembled. Even though she had reached full maturity a couple of centuries ago, she was still so young. And so vulnerable. After losing one parent, the princess looked up to her father a great deal. He was her role model and a person that she admired every single day. Calarel knew that relations with the other civilisations of Middle-Earth were important for the realm but she could not shake the feeling that there was another reason why her father wanted to go to Erebor. A more personal reason.

“ _Adar_ , has this trip of yours to Erebor got anything to do with _Naneth_ ’s necklace?”

_Valar, she sees right through me._ Thranduil thought as he stared at his daughter. Calarel had always been an intelligent elleth, many ellith were, but the princess had the ability to see people’s true intentions. Their true ideas. The King moved closer to the princess and placed his free hand over hers so that both of their hands were encased in one another’s. He sighed and pressed his lips together, his eyes on his and his daughter’s hands. Calarel knew from just the look on his face that the answer to her question was yes. When her mother was alive, the princess had seen the Queen wear the necklace almost every day. White gems sparkling against her pale skin. Fashioned and created by the Dwarves of Erebor, of whom Calarel or Tauriel knew hardly anything about.

“You know me well, sweetheart.” Thranduil smiled, trying to break the ice. It worked and the princess smiled back but only quickly and Thranduil’s smile faded just as quickly.

“That necklace is an heirloom of our kingdom. A memory of the Queen. I refuse to let it sit there in the Lonely Mountain when it should be sitting in its box or around your neck, Calarel.”

“Around my neck? But, _Adar_ , it was made for _Naneth_. For a Queen.”

“You will be Queen of Greenwood one day, sweetheart. It is only fitting that one day it should sit around your neck.” Thranduil whispered, smiling softly again. Tears pricked the princess’s eyes but she did not blink them away. She did not know if they were tears of sadness or tears of joy. _Maybe they are both._ She thought. Calarel moved her position on the bed, kneeling on the mattress, and let go of her father’s hands. She smiled at him before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Thranduil returned her embrace and buried his face where her head met her shoulder, running his right hand through her silken hair. Calarel kept her eyes open and she let her tears fall, brightening her green irises. She tightened her arms around her father, pulling him even closer.

“Get the necklace back. By whatever means you wish to get it back, do it.” The princess whispered. Thranduil raised his head and rested his chin on her shoulder, opening his eyes. He felt his daughter tremble in his hold so he strengthened his arms around her. If only just his arms could keep her safe from the dangers of the world. Thranduil could promise her things and whisper that everything was going to be alright in her ear but life threw so many problems at that, too fast that they could not fend them all off. But the King knew that whenever his daughter or his son was in his embrace, they would be safe. After losing Eletha, they were the only family that he had that shared his blood. They were his life and so he vowed to protect them. To honour his wife’s final wish.

Thranduil stayed with Calarel until she fell asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching his beloved daughter drift off into a sleep filled with memories of when Eletha was alive. Her chest moved up and down very slowly with each breath, her long hair still and devoid of tangles or knots. Thranduil marvelled at his daughter’s closed eyelids. Ever since she was born, her eyelids had a pale lavender tone, matching her pale skin. Her lashes ghosted the skin beneath her closed eyes and her lips were pressed together in a full pink line. Elves were always beautiful, when they were awake and when they were asleep. It was no different with the princess. She was lying partially on her side and one of the large pale gold pillows was sandwiched between her head and her left hand. The soft sheets were pulled up to her shoulders and her green robe lay discarded on the end of the bed, opposite the King. He softly moved closer to his daughter and ran his hand through her hair very gently. He leaned down and pressed a tender but fleeting kiss on her forehead. The princess stirred but did not wake up. Thranduil smiled down at his sleeping daughter, his lips just leaving her forehead.

“ _Quel kaima_ , _iell-nin_. May your dreams be filled with love and laughter.” He whispered and left the chambers without a sound, leaving Calarel to have dreams about her mother that had been taken away from her far too soon.

 

**

 

Aerandir was restless to say the least. Elks were intelligent animals and he knew that something was not right. Maeklin had had some trouble getting the elk from the paddock to the front gate but he managed to get him there. Tauriel was there too, helping the King’s steward to keep Aerandir still. To say that she was happy that she was not going to Erebor was a complete lie. She had been no short of livid that she was not allowed to go. _I am the Captain, for Valar’s sake! I should be allowed to go!_ She had told Tyaeron when he had informed her of the King’s orders. She had never been outside the Woodland Realm at all. It was the only home that she had known but Tauriel was keen to see the other civilisations of Middle-Earth. She wanted to see the other races like Men and she had not seen the other Elven realms either. She had only heard of them. Tauriel contemplated taking it up with the King but she knew that they would not come to the same resolution. Not a good one, at least. She had agreed to stay behind but her fury would take a day to cool down. Tauriel understood now why the King wanted to Tyaeron to go instead of her. She had been Captain for only 40 years whereas Tyaeron had been Captain for almost a millennia. He had had more experience than her with the world but she still had hope that one day, she would leave the realm and see more of Middle-Earth.

“Good morning, _melloneamin_.”

Tauriel and Maeklin turned to look at the front gate and saw Prince Legolas walking towards them. The red-haired elleth swallowed a lump in her throat and bowed her head.

“Mr prince.” She said and Maeklin did the same. Legolas was a vision of pure perfection, just like he was every other day. He was dressed in his dark green Guard clothes and his boots were laced up to his knees on the sides. His hair was adorned with its three braids and a simple silver circlet sat on his pale blonde head. Legolas was not going to Erebor because since his father was going, he would be the person ruling Greenwood, in Thranduil’s stead. He was at the front gate to see his father off, who had not arrived yet. Legolas had not made a move on Tauriel since that the night that he had tried to kiss her. He did not want to ruin their relationship more than he already had. He just had to accept that she saw him as a friend, as a brother, nothing more.

“Is His Grace on his way?” Maeklin asked, keeping a strong grip on Aerandir’s reins.

“Yes, Maeklin. He should be here any minute now.” Legolas answered. He looked around at the battalion that would be riding with the King. Only forty members of the Guard, including Tyaeron, were going. After all, it was a small trip. Legolas was a little nervous about governing the realm but as his father had said, it would be practice for the future. But the prince had hardly ever thought of himself becoming King. It was so far off in his mind that he had forgotten that one day, he would succeed his father as being King. When Thranduil was gone, Legolas vowed to himself that he try his best and live up to his father’s expectations. That’s what princes did.

As Legolas went over to talk to Tyaeron, the King of the Woodland Realm came out of the palace in all his glory. Robes of a silvery-blue with almost web-like embroidery on the shoulders and down the front and back. His orange and silver brooch glinted at his open collar and the pointed branch crown sat on his head, decorated with blue leaves, matching the colour of his clothes and the piercing colour of his eyes. His hair lay perfectly over his shoulders and down his back, glowing silver-gold in the morning sunlight. He was a King born and bred and he looked every inch of it. The forty Guard members, Tyaeron, Tauriel, the prince and Maeklin all bowed before him and he gave them all a deep nod in response. His gaze went to his elk and he stared into the animal’s soft brown eyes. He walked towards Aerandir and placed his hand on the side of his face which immediately made the elk calm down.

“Ssh, good boy.” Thranduil whispered. The King had loved Aerandir ever since the Queen presented the elk to him on his nameday nearly 500 years ago. He had grown to care for Aerandir and he was much more powerful than a regular stallion. Etular was still a beautiful horse and was now being ridden by Tyaeron. A fitting stead for a deserving ellon. It was a very lovely moment of connection between Elf and elk when Thranduil stroked Aerandir’s cheek, never breaking eye contact. Maeklin and Tauriel let go of the elk and he remained still this time because he was being reassured by his owner. He moved his hand off the elk’s face and took hold of the reins, curling them around his long fingers.

“I trust you are doing well in your new post, Tauriel.” Thranduil said, turning his head to look at the red-haired elleth.

“Yes, I am, Your Grace.” The Captain of the Guard answered with a slight bow of her head. The King could see the look of disappointment in her eyes. He knew that Tauriel wished to go on the trip to Erebor but she was still new to her position as Captain and she needed more experience and practice in being a leader. But there was also another reason why Thranduil did not want Tauriel to come. He loved her like a daughter and she was still so young. And he wanted someone to stay behind and guard the realm as well as protect his children if need be.

“I know that you wish to come with us. But not now. Maybe another time, daughter of the forest.”

Tauriel nodded, her glorious copper-coloured locks billowing about her lithe shoulders. The King released one of his hands from his elk’s reins and reached out to hold Tauriel’s hand. The contact of his fingers wrapping around the edge of her hand surprised the elleth but she was grateful for his tenderness.

“ _Namaarie_ , Tauriel. Look after my realm while I am gone.”

“I will, my King. I promise you that I will.” Tauriel vowed.

“ _Diola lle_.” The King smiled ever so slightly as his fingers fell away from her hand. The red-haired elleth looked over the King’s shoulder and saw Legolas staring right at her. She blinked at him and tore her eyes away from his face, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“Is the princess coming out to see you off, my King?”

“We already said our farewells in her chambers. Why don’t you go to her and keep her company? She will need a female with her.” Thranduil said. It was not a demand or an order. It was a suggestion but Tauriel obeyed all the same. She bowed her head once again and went back inside the palace, heading off to the princess’s chambers. Thranduil turned his body and head to the side and saw his son watch Tauriel disappear into the palace. He had known the signs for centuries. Thranduil was not stupid. He was far from it. He knew that his son had feelings for the red-haired Silvan elleth but not once had he seen Tauriel reciprocate his feelings. As his father, Thranduil had never seen Legolas have any affection for anyone but his sister but his fondness towards Tauriel was something new. The last thing he wanted was for his son to be rejected by the elleth that he desired so badly but it looked like he had already been rejected.

“Legolas.” Thranduil spoke clearly, getting the attention of his son. The prince looked in his father’s direction and saw from the look on his face that he wanted him to come over. So Legolas did.

“I know why you have been a little distant lately, _ion-nin_.” The King said when the prince reached him. Legolas pretended that he did not know what his father meant.

“I do not know what you are referring to, _Adar_.”

“Do not play coy with me, Legolas. You know _exactly_ what I am referring to.” Thranduil lowered his voice but the growl was still heard, his lips pressing together in a thin stern line. Legolas’s lips parted but he did not say anything. _I cannot evade this forever. When my father knows something, he knows._ He thought. He lowered his eyes to the ground for a moment before returning his gaze to the King.

“Maybe this is a conversation for another time, _Adar_.”

Thranduil looked at his son, his eyes softening a little. The prince did speak the truth. Now was not the right time to discuss Legolas’s love life.

“You are right, Legolas. We shall talk when I return.” And with that statement, Thranduil swiftly mounted Aerandir, hooking his feet into the stirrups, his cloak falling over the elk’s back.

“ _Namaarie_ , _Adar_. May your trip be safe.” The prince said, placing his hand over his heart and extending up to his father. Thranduil returned the same gesture before taking hold of Aerandir’s reins.

“ _Namaarie_ , _ion-nin_. I trust you to look after the realm.”

“I will, _aran-nin_.” Legolas said, bowing his head. Thranduil stared down at his son one last time before turning his elk around to face his battalion.

“We journey to Erebor, to the King Under The Mountain. We travel by daylight. We rest when only I say so.”

Legolas stepped away as his father slowly moved across the bridge, mounted upon Aerandir. Tyaeron followed him next then the battalion marched behind in rows of five. The prince watched the King ride off into the forest, going faster before him and the rest of the Elves disappeared into the decaying trees of Greenwood Forest.

 

**

 

The Dwarven kingdom of Erebor had not changed when Thranduil arrived. It was just as magnificent and splendid as it was when he had first seen it many centuries ago. The King and his battalion had ridden through the city of Dale and had received pleasured greeting from the mortals. There were little children squealing, smiling and laughing as he rode past on his elk. Thranduil remembered his own children when they were little elflings. Full of life and adventure, wanting to explore and excited by anything new. He managed to smile at the mortal children which in turn made them squeal and wave even more.

The Front Gate of Erebor was open and the balcony above was adorned with flags that were blowing the wind. Thranduil could see golden light within the kingdom, glowing bright against the blue-grey stone. The sound of Aerandir’s hooves echoed on the stone ground as they passed through the two large pylons outside. It was early Winter and the warmth of Autumn still lingered. Soft snow already littered the ground, shining in the sun that glowed bright in the blue sky. The wind made Thranduil shiver a little and his silken hair moved around his broad shoulders gracefully, not one strand out of place. Tyaeron came up to ride beside him, his eyes on his King.

“Your Grace, are you cold?”

Thranduil looked at the former Captain with soft eyes, the colour still piercing.

“I am fine, Tyaeron.”

The former Captain of the Guard and the Elvenking of Greenwood had been friends for nearly a millennia. It was like they were brothers really. Thranduil had always admired Tyaeron in that he did not do his duty just for his home and his King but because he wanted to. He needed to. And in turn, Thranduil did his duty to protect his kingdom and keep the people that he held most dear safe. Tyaeron was not only just one of his most loyal subjects but he was also one of his most trusted friends. A person that Thranduil could reply on in any situation, no matter how bad or dangerous it was.

Tyaeron nodded at his King and they continued to ride up to the Front Gate. A middle-age Dwarf with a brown-grey beard and hair of the same colour waited for them, his stout short body clothed in dark red Dwarven garb. He opened his arms and bowed his head.

“Welcome to Erebor, King Thranduil! It is an honour to see you in our kingdom once again!”

Thranduil halted his elk and looked down at the Dwarf. He raised his right hand and signalled for his battalion to stop.

“Good afternoon, Master Dwarf. Thank you for receiving me.” Thranduil said, dismounting Aerandir. The letter that he had sent to Erebor by raven had been short, simply stating that he wished to see the King Under The Mountain to discuss trade.

“Balin is my name. I am at your service, my lord.” The Dwarf spoke, bowing his head once again. The King curled his fingers around Aerandir’s reins and nodded at the Dwarf.

“Thank you, Balin. I request to see the King.” Thranduil demanded, his knuckles turning white. He was so close. The necklace was inside the very kingdom that he was now visiting. A memory of his beloved Queen. A possession that belonged to the elleth with chocolate brown hair. And now it belonged to him.

“He has been expecting you. Please follow me, my lord.” Balin said, turning around and walking into the kingdom of Erebor. Thranduil ordered for Tyaeron and four other soldiers to come with him. The rest of the battalion remained behind to look after the horses and Aerandir. The King gracefully walked into Erebor and began to marvel at the beauty of the Dwarven kingdom.

There were chambers filled with golden light. Enormous columns that lined the halls, lanterns hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the entire area. Even though Thranduil had never had the best relationship with Dwarves, the only thing he did admire about them was their craftsmanship. He did not admit it out loud but the way that Dwarves fashioned jewellery and stones was better than the Elves did it the majority of the time. That was why he had the Dwarves make the necklace. Because he knew deep down that they would do a far better job than the jewellers in Greenwood palace. Dwarves rushed and milled about, creating necklace and rings from the tiniest of gems and from the brightest of jewels. Thranduil saw emeralds and diamonds. And rubies and sapphires. And amethysts and ambers. So many different gemstones of all different colours. As the tales said, if Thranduil had one weakness, it was for treasure. He did not call it a weakness but he knew that it was true in a way. He did love jewellery. As if his circlets, brooch and rings were not proof enough.

Thranduil kept his head held high as he followed Balin. He led them up a long set of stairs, the railings made from dark blue marble which glowed a greeny colour in the golden light. Clanking could be heard in the distance as well as the sound of small jewels moving in metal fashioning instruments. It was like music to Thranduil’s ears. What he would give to have a talent in creating such beautiful objects. The end of his blue robes trailed out behind him as he moved, so gracefully as if he was just letting the air carry him along. Tyaeron and the other four Elves followed him, their faces stern as they reached the top of the stairs. Balin stopped them at a corner and bowed at the much taller Elves.

“King Thrór awaits you, my lord.”

Thranduil nodded at the Dwarf and walked around the corner, his loyal subjects right behind him. And then, the Elvenking found himself in the cavernous throne room of Erebor.

There was just one single aisle that connected the entrance to the throne area. Empty space on either side, going down deep into the kingdom. The architecture was majestic but Thranduil already knew that because he had been there before. There were eight people that looked tiny from the large distance that stood them and the Elves. A Dwarf sat on the large throne with two Dwarves standing on his right and another one stood to his left. Four guards stood behind the more important Dwarves, their faces and body completely covered in armour. Thranduil knew that all of them were looking at him but he was not intimidated. Dwarves may be strong but they had not lived as long as he had. They did not know what it was like to live for nearly 3,000 years. The Dwarves would never know.

The King began to walk down the single path, taking his time, keeping his gaze fixed on the Dwarves. He heard the swish of the Elves’ robes as they followed him. Thranduil’s arms hung by his sides as he approached the throne. He saw a shining jewel embedded in the stone above the King, an array of white, blue and pink sparkling. From the second that Thranduil saw it, he knew what it was. It was the King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone. The news of the perfect jewel that had been found in the Mountain spread like wildfire. Everyone wanted to just see it. Just for a moment. The King returned his gaze to the King Under the Mountain and he lowered his head slightly at him, acknowledging his position. King Thrór eyed him curiously, his blue eyes the only colour in his face. He waved his right hand and Thranduil watched as a Dwarf, who was carrying a chest, walk down the steps to him. Thranduil noticed a young Dwarf looking at him. His eyes were blue thought they were not as cold as King Thrór’s. His hair was as black as night and his garb was a royal blue colour. The last time that Thranduil had seen the Dwarf, he had been much younger. He had grown into the prince that he was born to me. Thorin Oakenshield however was the least of Thranduil’s worries. The Dwarf in front of him opened the chest and he saw something shining inside. The Elvenking gulped and slowly walked forward, his eyes on the open chest. When he was close enough, he finally saw it. The whole reason that he had come.

The White Gems of Lasgalen sparkled just as much as the day that he had received them many centuries ago. The necklace sat on a bed of crystals and it was surrounded by a variety of other silver and white jewels. Thranduil’s eyes widened. He was not dreaming. It was real. The necklace was real. He was so close to touching it. To taking it home with him. He remembered all of the times that his wife had worn it. The look in her emerald green eyes when he first gave it to her. Before Thranduil realised it, his right hand was moving in the direction of the chest. His fingers inched closer by the second, the sparkle of the gems reflecting in his crystalline blue eyes. Then, to his shock, the Dwarf shut the lid. Thranduil’s eyes widened even more, his irises becoming an even more piercing colour. He looked up at King Thrór and saw that his eyes were full of disdain, his beard adorned with gold. Thranduil lowered his hand and finally spoke.

“What is the meaning of this, King Thrór?”

“The jewels are not yours.” The King Under the Mountain declared, his voice deep and grumbly, the tone full of scorn.

“I am certain that I stated in my letter that they are mine.” Thranduil bit back, his tone also turning angry. He had come all this way to collect what was rightfully his and now, the Dwarves were refusing to give him the necklace? When King Thrór said nothing, Thranduil continued on.

“Pray tell me, O Great King Under The Mountain, why the jewels are not mine?”

“Because you did not pay the correct amount for them. The treasury has informed me of this outrage. You will not get the jewels back until you give us the rest of the money.” King Thrór responded coldly. Thranduil refrained his mouth from dropping open and his nostrils flared.

“That is ridiculous! I paid in full and in return, you gave me what I wanted. Do you deny me that?”

“Are you accusing me of lying, Elf King?” King Thrór asked, his eyebrows raising over icy blue eyes that bore no kindness. Thranduil stared at him with wide eyes and his gaze shifted to his grandson who was also looking at him. Thorin’s lips were pressed in a thin line and Thranduil could see the same hate in the young Dwarf’s eyes. The King knew that he paid them the full amount and because he had, they had created the necklace for him to give to his wife. He could sense his Elves behind him, their shock radiating off of their bodies. This was not what Thranduil had wished for in coming to Erebor. He had thought that it would be a peaceful meeting and he would return home with a memory of his beloved. But his wish had not been granted. However, it was not over. He still had to try.

“I did not say that but now that I think about it, yes.”

All of the Dwarves and the Elves widened their eyes, surprised at what the Elvenking had just said.

“King Thrór, this is absurd. I demand to see the treasury notes but then again, you might have tampered with the numbers.” _I would not put it past you after what I am witnessing._ Thranduil thought. The Dwarven King that sat before him was not the same Dwarf he once was. Something had gone wrong and Thranduil was not the only that could see it.

“You will not see the treasury notes.” King Thrór snapped.

“That just makes you sound even more guilty.” Thranduil barked back, his tone icy. There was silence for another ten seconds before the Elvenking spoke again.

“Just let me leave with the jewels and we can return to our normal trading relationship.”

“That will not happen. You are not leaving this kingdom with my jewels.”

“With _your_ jewels? King Thrór, they are not yours. They will never be yours.” _They should not be yours._ Thranduil growled in his head. He could not go home empty-handed. He did not want to. All he wanted was to feel those cool gems sitting in his palms, being back where they truly belonged.

“No money, no necklace.” King Thrór announced, his voice callous and taciturn. Something told Thranduil that the King was not telling the truth. That even if he did give them more money, they still would not give the necklace back to him. His eyes went to the shining Arkenstone that sat in all its glory above the throne. It sure was beautiful but there was also something off about it and Thranduil could not put his finger on it. This could not go on any longer. _If the Dwarves are not willing to cooperate, then neither am I._ The King thought.

“I will not bargain with you when you are not yourself, King Thrór. I will return and next time, I will have that necklace. Whether you like it or not.” Thranduil said coldly and before any of the Dwarves could say anything, he turned around, his robes swishing over the stone path. Tyaeron and the four other Elves parted for him and allowed him to walk away first. They turned their backs on the Dwarves and followed their King.

“ _Lle naa haran e' nausalle_.” Thranduil muttered under his breath, his mind on the changed King Under The Mountain. He was not the same. And it had something to do with the Arkenstone. That beautiful jewel had an eerie feel about it. It excreted some kind of psychological sickness that Thranduil did not want to deal with. He had enough problems to deal with. He did not want to add Dwarves to the list. But he knew one thing for certain. One thing that he knew for sure. Where sickness thrived, bad things would follow.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Diola lle – Thank you
  * Adar – Father
  * iell-nin – my daughter
  * Naneth – Mother
  * Quel kaima – Sleep well
  * melloneamin – my friends
  * Namaarie – Farewell
  * ion-nin – my son
  * aran-nin – my King
  * Lle naa haran e' nausalle – You are king in your imagination



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write in terms of the feud between Thrór and Thranduil and the necklace because I wanted to stick with canon on it. I believe that this is when Thranduil first started to have that disgust for Dwarves. There are two sides to the feud but for this story, I’m going with Thranduil’s side and how he sees it. But I hope you liked the chapter nonetheless!


	9. The Fall Of Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas remembers a conversation with his father. Thranduil receives word that a dragon has been seen close to Dale and Erebor. But when he arrives at the Mountain, he knows that it is too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T.G.I.F! So to start off the weekend, please enjoy this nearly 7,000 word chapter! I had to title this chapter like this, I couldn’t help myself :P Please enjoy :)

20 years later

 

His chambers were quiet as usual. He was alone after a full six hours of training. When Legolas entered his chambers, he took his belt and weapons off as well as his boots and literally collapsed onto the bed. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was have a nice long sleep. But there was one thing that was still troubling him. When his father returned from Erebor empty-handed, he could see the look of betrayal and sadness in the King’s eyes. And on that night, the King had locked himself in his chambers. He did not want to be disturbed. He needed to time to himself.

The next night, Legolas had found Maeklin knocking on his door.

“Your father wishes to see you, my prince.” The steward had said. Legolas obeyed and went to see his father. He knew what was coming and he was prepared. As Legolas tried to drift off to sleep, his mind flashed back to when his father had a conversation with him.

 

_“Adar? You wanted to see me?” The prince asked, slowly opening the large doors. His gaze fell upon his father who was seated at his desk, his head devoid of ornaments and a goblet of Dorwinion wine in his hand._

_“Yes, Legolas. Come in.” His voice was deep and low, not full of the happiness that it once held. His lips were stained dark red which contrasted with the pallor of his skin. The prince walked inside and shut the doors behind him. He approached the desk and looked at his father._

_“Is there something you wish to speak to me about?” Legolas asked. Thranduil lowered his goblet from his lips and looked up at his son, letting out a slow sigh._

_“Yes, Legolas. And you know what it is about.”_

_Legolas swallowed deeply but kept his eyes to his father’s. Of course he knew. He had been dreading this conversation for so long. For years actually. He lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment, bracing for a scolding. He knew that his father would not allow him to be in a relationship with Tauriel. It was not because of her heritage since Eletha herself was a Silvan Elf. It was because the King did not want to put his son through a damaged relationship with an elleth who did not desire him the way that Legolas desired her. The prince deserved to be with someone who felt the same love and affection for him. And Legolas had found that that was the case with Tauriel the hard way. But Legolas did not get the scolding that he expected._

_“Get that chair, Legolas.”_

_The prince raised his eyes and peered at his father with a surprised expression. The King was nodding at a spare chair that sat next to his large wardrobe. Legolas went over and grabbed it in his hands and walked back to the desk, setting it down on the stone floor._

_“Sit down.” Thranduil said bluntly. Legolas slowly sat down in the wooden chair, his hands in his lap. Thranduil noticed that his son was dressed in his Guard clothes and from the slight dirt on his green tunic, he knew that he had been on an evening patrol._

_“I am just going to say what I think, Legolas. And do not interrupt me. I will give you the chance to talk after I do.” Thranduil said, his voice commanding yet with a small hint of softness that he had always had when he spoke to his son. The prince nodded, acknowledging that he had understood what his father had said. The King took one last sip of wine before placing his goblet on the desk, his fingers adorned with his fabulous rings._

_“I want the best for you, Legolas. You know that. You are my son and I want you to live a full life. You have already exceeded all of my expectations. You have grown up to be a wonderful ellon. You are kind and caring but fierce and protective. And I believe that you have inherited those qualities from your mother.”_

_Thranduil’s voice broke suddenly at the mention of the Queen. Legolas saw a look of grief flash across his father’s face and he knew that he had the same expression on his own face. Whenever Eletha came up in a conversation, there was always a moment of awkward silence as if the royals were once again mourning for her. Thranduil took a deep breath and continued._

_“Being a prince, you have certain things that are expected of you. Believe me, I know. I was once a prince like you. And one of those things is that you are expected to have an elleth by your side by the time you become King.”_

_Legolas fought the urge to say something. Please, Adar, do not arrange a marriage for me. Do not choose my bride for me. Legolas pleaded in his head. He did not to be forced into marriage. He wanted to marry for love, just like his father had done. He wanted to fall in love with an elleth and take her as his Queen. Not an elleth that he hardly knew or did not know at all. Thranduil saw his son’s jaw clench, as if he was trying hard to keep his mouth shut._

_“I know what you are thinking, Legolas. You can be an open book in terms of your facial expressions. No, I am not arranging a marriage for you.”_

_Oh, thank the Valar! Legolas cried in his mind. Thranduil noticed the look of relief on Legolas’s face and could not help but smile a little._

_“I could not do that to you, Legolas. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. I wish for you to fall in love with an elleth of your own choosing just like I did. And I cannot help but wonder that you have already found her.”_

_Legolas’s eyes widened and he was certain that his heart had stopped for a moment. His lips parted and fear washed over his face. Thranduil suddenly felt guilty that his son looked so frightened. Legolas had never been scared of his father. Not ever. But right now, he was. He was frightened about what his father would do. The last thing the prince wanted to do was to let his father down. He wanted to make him proud, just like he had always done for so many years already. An image of Tauriel encompassed his vision in that moment. She was all he wanted. The only elleth that he wished to love and have for his own. And Thranduil knew that his son wanted her. The Captain of the Guard with the flaming red hair and vibrant hazel eyes. The King knew that many ellyn had their eyes on her. She was beautiful but her personality was something that they found attractive about her. Thranduil thought the same thing. Her spirit and strong personality reminded him of Eletha. And that brought him joy._

_“Tell me, ion-nin, do you love Tauriel?”_

_The prince’s mind went into meltdown. His thoughts were swirling around like a hurricane inside his head. He did not know what to think or what to say. The King’s question had caught him off-guard. He had not expected it. Do I love her? I know that I want her, that I desire her. But do I actually love her? Legolas asked himself, not knowing the answer. It was not a no and it was not a yes. Thranduil waited for his son to speak and after a few very long moments of complete silence, he did._

_“I do not know.”_

_It was not the answer that Thranduil was hoping for. It had taken Thranduil only a mere month to fall in love with Eletha but Legolas had known Tauriel for nearly four centuries and he did not know what he felt for her. He did not know if it was love. The King leaned forward in his chair and rested his forearms on the desk, clasping his hands together._

_“The matters of the heart are complicated. But I am not blind, Legolas. I know that you feel something deep for Tauriel. I see it in your face when you look at her.”_

_Thranduil sighed softly before continuing to talk._

_“I want you to fall in love, Legolas. Just like I did. But my fear is that the elleth that you desire does not feel the same way that you do.”_

_Legolas knew what his father was talking about. The prince knew that Tauriel did not see him the way that he saw her. She looked at him as a fellow soldier, a close friend, a protective older brother. Neither a lover nor a husband. Thranduil had witnessed it firsthand. He knew that the red-haired Captain did not desire Legolas in a romantic or a sexual way. He knew her well._

_“I do not want you to be rejected. Especially from love. You deserve to love, Legolas, and I do not want you to love somebody who will never love you back.”_

_“Are you saying that I should just forget about my feelings for Tauriel, Adar?” Legolas questioned, narrowing his eyes. Now **he** is the one who is rejecting me from love? No, I will not let him. He snarled in his mind. Thranduil watched as his son’s face morphed into one of shock and fury. His eyes become less soft and turned colder, piercing the King’s soul. The last thing the King wanted was his son to become distant from him and alienate himself. Because his wife was now gone, Thranduil wanted to keep his children close to him. He still had people to love and protect._

_“No, I am not saying that.” Thranduil said gently._

_“Well, what are you suggesting then?” Legolas asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing in rage and confusion. His knuckles began to turn white as he clenched his hands together. Legolas could not just push his feelings for Tauriel away. What he felt for her was too deep. Too deep to ignore. Too deep to just let go of. Thranduil sighed and looked down at his hands. The only sound that came from him was his breathing. Legolas could tell from the look on his father’s face that he was stumped._

_“You don’t know what to suggest, do you?” He said. It was more of a statement than a question. Thranduil raised his eyes and looked at his son, a look of apology on his face._

_“Legolas…”_

_“You don’t know. Just admit that you don’t know.”_

_“That I do not know what, Legolas?”_

_“That you do not know what I am feeling.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“It is the truth, Adar. You do not know what my heart is feeling. Naneth never rejected you. You knew what she felt for you. And she knew what she felt for you.”_

_“Legolas, do not bring your mother into this.” Thranduil said, his voice turning darker, his teeth almost gritting together in order to get his son to understand. This was no longer the conversation that the King had wished to have with his son. It had now turned into an argument._

_“Why not? If she was here, she would tell me to still have hope. She would tell me to follow my heart.” Legolas said._

_“And what do you think I am doing?!_

_“You are telling me to do the exact opposite! I will not let you dash my hopes, Adar. Not now. Please not now.” Legolas pleaded. The King pressed his lips together and shook his head, closing his eyes. He was beginning to get frustrated so he reached for the goblet with his left hand. But Legolas was quicker. He reached over and knocked the goblet off the table, the rest of the red wine covering the stone floor. Thranduil stared at his son with wide eyes, his lips parting in shock._

_“No more alcohol, Adar! That is how you solve things. But it does not work. It will never work.” Legolas shouted, his blue eyes huge and his jaw clenching in anger. He hated seeing his father drown himself in wine. He had done it in the months after the Queen perished at Gundabad. There had been many nights when Legolas had found the King drunk. And it broke his heart. It broke Thranduil’s heart too. And his heart was already broken from the loss of his great love. He believed what his son had said to him. Alcohol never benefited him, especially not in these dark times. Thranduil sat back in his seat and rested his hands in his lap, his long fingers weaving together._

_“Leave, Legolas.”_

_The prince stared at his father, his lips parted. He was about to say something but the King raised his right hand, his mouth a simple stern line._

_“We will continue this conversation at a later time when you have cooled off.”_

_Legolas did not move from his chair for a few seconds. He was not finished talking to his father but it was not his father sitting before him. It was his King. Legolas had no choice but to obey and so he stood up and left the large chambers without a backwards glance._

The prince remembered that night as though it were last night. Ever since that argument, a distance had grown between the prince and the King. Legolas only saw his father at dinners and feasts and when he reported his patrol to him in the evenings. Other than that, he would only see the King if he was walking through the halls or if the King summoned him to his chambers. And many people noticed the different relationship between Thranduil and Legolas. Most notably, Calarel and Tauriel.

The princess knew that something was wrong between her father and her brother. She could sense it because it was sticking out like a sore thumb. Calarel would ask both of them what was wrong individually and as expected, the King and the prince denied everything, saying that everything was fine between them. But Calarel was not stupid. She wished to know what the reason was that had caused the distance between the two male royals of Greenwood. But she decided not to meddle, not wanting to make things even worse than they already were.

Tauriel felt the same. Expect she knew what the reason was. _It is me. I am what’s wrong._ She said to herself on multiple occasions. Legolas had not made any advances on her because he did not want to damage his own dreams of her loving him even more. But Tauriel knew that the prince still desired her. She caught him staring at her in the training grounds and at feasts. It really did make her upset. She was rejecting Legolas and she did not want to. Tauriel still wanted to be friends with him. She wished that they had that camaraderie back. But Legolas was distancing himself from her as well. Tauriel discovered that she was no longer doing patrols with him. She missed having that one-on-one time with him. But Legolas did it for a reason. _If I wish for her to love me, I must leave her alone to decide by herself. I do not want to damage our relationship even further._ He said to himself. And as a result from detaching himself from his father and Tauriel, Legolas felt somewhat lonely. But he still had his little sister and the two siblings grew closer each day of every year.

So Legolas would wait. He would wait for Tauriel to come to him. And he hoped that that day would come soon. The prince finally fell asleep, dreaming of a future with an elleth with hazel eyes and red hair that loved him fiercely.

 

**

 

The King of the Woodland Realm sat at his desk once again, blinking constantly to keep himself awake. He thought his life was slowly turning darker. He and his son had grown apart and his forest was now a deranged landscape full of evil smells and sick trees. The people of Middle-Earth had already given it a new name. Mirkwood. Thranduil hated the name, even how fitting it was for the forest. It was no longer Greenwood the Great. The paths were no longer filled with sunlight. The leaves were no longer a beautiful green. There was hardly any wildlife because most had fled to find a healthier home.

Valpantiel had gone to stay with Radagast for two weeks to help him stabilise the sick animals that he had found while picking mushrooms. Melda had not changed except she was just as worried as Thranduil. She was the one that he now talked to the most. They seemed to share the same view on things and they would converse until the early hours of the morning. And now, Thranduil dreamt of his wife almost every night. Dreams of his past life and nightmares of his dead beloved. There were nights when he would wake up screaming and his daughter would burst into his chambers, soothing him until he fell asleep again. Sometimes, Thranduil felt alone in his world. No-one knew what he was going through. His life was slowly degrading and his burns showed through when he got emotional, stinging his broken heart.

The King was concerned for his son, like any good father would be. He felt guilty. He blamed himself for the dispute that had changed his once-loving relationship with Legolas. Thranduil knew how much his son cared for Tauriel. Once, all the prince wanted to do was to protect the red-haired Silvan. Now, he wanted her for his own. To love and to cherish. Thranduil had no hard feelings towards Tauriel or her heritage. It was not her Silvan blood that was the problem. It was that she did not love Legolas. She did not want him in the way that he wanted her. And the King knew that. He did not want his son to be rejected from love. But Elves only loved once. And if Legolas had already given his heart to Tauriel…then there really was a problem. But it was not one that Thranduil could fix. As much as he wanted to fix it, he could not. He rested his elbows on the desk and fisted his hands in his hair, pulling at his scalp in frustration. The King had not touched any alcohol on this night and he could feel his body craving it. But he fought it. His son’s words echoed in his head.

_No more alcohol, Adar! That is how you solve things. But it does not work. It will never work._

Thranduil felt tears well up in his eyes but he blinked them away. He sat back in his large chair and sighed, pressing his fingers to his mouth. He began to ponder about what Tauriel felt. He could only imagine. _She probably blames herself, poor thing. It is not her fault._ Thranduil had always treated Tauriel like a daughter, ever since the day he had found her during the Shinal attack. He kept her safe, cared for her, protected her. But Tauriel was not to blame. _It is not her fault that she does not know what her heart feels. And it is not Legolas’s fault either. He cannot control his heart either._ He thought. _Great, another problem to add to the list._ The King closed his eyes and breathed slowly, relaxing himself.

_Let him decide._

Thranduil’s eyes snapped open and he gasped softly. His hand fell away from his mouth and he scanned his chambers. There was no-one there but he was certain that he had heard a voice. The voice had been angelic and beautiful, so soft but profound. _I know that voice._ He thought. He knew the voice like the back of his hand. And then, the King realised. He knew whose voice it was.

_Let our son decide, melamin._

“Oh, Eletha…” Thranduil whispered, a small smile gracing his perfect lips. Even though she was gone physically, the Queen’s presence still lingered within him. She continued to advise him from beyond the grave. He closed his eyes again and remembered the sound of her beautiful voice. Thranduil remembered how many times her voice had said his name. He remembered how many times she had told him that she loved him. He missed hearing her voice every morning and every night. Once, he had slept with his arms around the elleth that he loved with all of his heart. Now, he slept alone in the bed that was too big.

The King rose from his chair and walked the length of his chambers to the balcony. He had removed his lavish robes because sometimes he found them quite heavy but he never admitted it. He was wearing a simple fitting silver tunic that hung down to his knees with grey leggings and his knee-high leather boots. His head was unadorned and his hair hung loose around his shoulders, gently blowing in the wind. Thranduil rested his forearms on the stone balcony and looked out into the dark forest. He no longer heard the tweeting of birds. Instead, all he heard was silence. Just the wind. Winter had come again but there was no snow yet. It was just the first two weeks of Winter and the temperature was gradually getting colder. The moon and the stars twinkled in the night sky, bright and beautiful. Thranduil looked up, the stars reflecting in his crystalline eyes.

“I hope you are somewhere up there, _a'maelamin_.” He whispered. He of all people knew the love that Eletha had borne for the stars. She had been a Silvan Elf, after all, and they loved the stars. Thranduil remembered the nights when he would sit on the balcony while Eletha would stand and look up into the dark sky. He would sit there and listen to her talk about the stars and how they beautiful they were and how important they were to her. He could sit there for hours and listen to her talk about almost everything in the world. The stars twinkled at him in response and Thranduil knew that one of them was his beloved Queen.

 

**

 

“Your Grace! You must wake up!”

The King heard a familiar voice and slowly opened his eyes when shadows began to dance in front of his eyelids. His vision was suddenly encompassed by his steward and behind him was Tyaeron. The sun was out and it was almost noon. _I seem to be sleeping in more than I used to._ He thought. He placed his arm over his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight.

“Why? What is wrong?”

“A winged shadow has been seen not far from Erebor.” Maeklin answered hurriedly.

“Who told you that?” Thranduil asked groggily as Tyaeron moved to stand next to Maeklin, blocking out the sunlight.

“The news has spread quickly from the Men of Dale. Come on, my lord! We must go!”

“Go where?” Thranduil questioned, lowering his bare arm.

“To Erebor, Your Grace! The Dwarves may need our help!” Tyaeron cried. Thranduil sat up and noticed that the former Captain was already dressed in his Guard clothes and his sea-green eyes were glowing with fear. The King pushed the sheets away and exited the warmth of his bed. He stretched his arms behind him, getting the circulation going as Maeklin held his clothes out to him.

“So a dragon has been spotted close to Erebor?” Thranduil asked as Maeklin helped him into his blue robes.

“Yes, Your Grace. We must make haste if we are to reach The Mountain in time.” Tyaeron responded with a nod.

“I wonder why a dragon decided to come.” Thranduil murmured sarcastically under his breath.

“What did you say, Your Grace?” Maeklin asked, fixing the King’s long hair down his back.

“Nothing.” The King answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly. He knew the dragon’s motive already. He knew that it would happen someday. After his failed attempt to get the necklace back, Thranduil had gone back to Erebor to try for a second time and only discovered that King Thrór’s condition had gotten even worse. He had so much gold, so much wealth, it was unnatural. His love for gold had grown too fierce. Thranduil had warned him that a fire-breathing creature would soon come to take his gold but the King Under The Mountain would not listen. His mind had been poisoned and he would not listen to reason. _I warned him. But he did not listen to me._ Thranduil said to himself as Maeklin placed the crown on his head, once again adorned with blue leaves to symbolise the season of Winter. _Why should I go to their aid? I know what a dragon’s wrath is like. The Dwarves have no chance._ But he did not want his people to see him without mercy, so callous and cold. They still saw him as a strong ellon and a good fair King. An Elf King that could help a kingdom of Dwarves.

“Tyaeron, assemble the army. And do not let my son or the Captain come. They must remain behind with the princess.” Thranduil ordered as Maeklin handed him his sword and he placed it in its scabbard.

“At once, Your Grace.” Tyaeron bowed his head and left the chambers quickly.

It would be a complete lie to say that Thranduil was not reluctant to go to Erebor. The Dwarves were not his responsibility and it certainly was not his problem that a dragon had decided to take his wrath to the Dwarven kingdom and keep every single coin to himself. The amount of gold that King Thrór had hoarded over the years was huge, too huge for a Dwarf. When Thranduil had gone to try and get the necklace back for the second time, the King Under The Mountain’s demeanour had totally changed. He had not even allowed Thranduil to see the white-gem necklace. And that was when Thranduil’s suspicions were finally confirmed to be true. King Thrór was suffering from a deep sickness that was psychological. It was a sickness of the mind. _Gold sickness._ Thranduil thought. Gold sickness was rare but not unheard of. The problem was how the King’s sickness would affect Erebor’s future. _He summoned a dragon to his homeland. That is not my problem._ Thranduil said in his head, his face contorting in infuriation. He then realised that he was not alone. He looked at Maeklin and opened his mouth to speak.

“You are dismissed, Maeklin. Saddle Aerandir up for me, would you? I will meet you at the front gate in a couple of minutes.”

The steward bowed his head and quickly left the King’s chambers, heading towards the great elk’s paddock. Thranduil was once again alone. He liked solitude now, much to everybody’s astonishment. The King had once loved being the centre of attention at feasts and gatherings. He would smile, laugh and dance. His eyes would glitter with great love and pure happiness. He had been carefree and he would grin every time he laid eyes on his beautiful wife. That Thranduil had all but disappeared. _When she perished, that part of me perished with her._ Eletha had brought him to life but she was gone now and he changed. And not for the better.

The King walked over to his bed and sat down. He reached out and opened the first drawer of the chest beside the bed. He pulled out his silver spiky brooch with the large amber at the centre and looked into the large full-length mirror that sat against the wall. Thranduil clipped the brooch onto his collar, the orange stone complimenting with the blue of his robes. His reflection stared back at him with cold yet anxious eyes and his lips formed into a deep frown. Thranduil looked back at the open drawer and fished out his four glorious rings. He slipped them onto his fingers before closing the drawer. His eyes went to the ring that sat on the fourth finger of his left hand. _I remember when she placed this ring on my finger as if it was yesterday._ Thranduil thought, the faintest of smiles spreading across his face. His wedding to his beloved had been one of the best days of his long life. He remembered the look in her emerald green eyes when he spoke his vows to her. Tears pricked his eyes at the memory but he did not allow his tears to fall down his cheeks. _I am the King. The Great Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. I must not cry._ He said to himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He rose from his position on the bed and sighed. Thranduil opened his eyes slowly and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked every bit of a King. _I am the King. I must be strong._ And with tha final thought, Thranduil left his chambers and headed down to the front gate of the palace.

 

His army, which had once again arisen to 4,000 Elves after the deaths of many at Gundabad, was already in position when he arrived. However, only half of his army would be marching to Erebor. In his head, Thranduil knew that he was already too late. Nothing can stop a dragon. Well, a Black Arrow would do the trick but Thranduil did not own any nor did he have a windlance to fire one from.

Tyaeron was already mounted on Etular and Maeklin held Aerandir’s reins in his hand. Thranduil took them from him and hopped onto the elk’s back, getting comfortable and placing in his booted feet in the stirrups. He rode across the bridge to the edge of the dark forest where his army was waiting for him, awaiting orders. Tyaeron rode behind and halted his horse when Thranduil stopped. The King manoeuvred his elk to turn around so he could face his Elven army.

“We march swiftly to Erebor. We will not stop until we reach the Dwarven kingdom.” Thranduil declared, his deep voice echoing off the large tall trees. The army remained silent but they understood what was expected of them. Thranduil looked at Tyaeron and the two of them shared a fearful yet strong glance. The King turned Aerandir around he cantered into the forest. His home that was now sick but he kept his mind on Erebor and the doomed fate of the Dwarves. Tyaeron followed him immediately as did the 2,000 Elven soldiers, their armour glowing silver and gold in the sunlight. What Thranduil did not see was the blonde-haired prince and the red-haired Captain standing at the front gate, their bright eyes wide with shock and their lips parted in trepidation.

 

**

 

Fire. He saw fire. Bright orange flame and dark grey smoke. The King saw that the city of Dale was all but destroyed. Men, women, children, animals…innocent people. All dead because of King Thrór’s thick and stupid head. Thranduil urged his elk forward, the synchronised sound of his army marching behind him. They were on a high cliff face that overlooked Dale and the Front Gate of Erebor and the King saw a dragon’s tail disappearing into the Dwarven kingdom. He was too late and he already knew that when he left Greenwood Palace nearly a day ago. He stopped at the edge of the cliff and looked down at the desolated landscape, his mind flashing back to when he first saw the dragons at Gundabad.

 

_He first heard the roars. They were extremely loud and they echoed off of the large snow-capped mountains. The battle raged around him as he hacked away at the Orcs, taking on four at a time. For a split second, he looked up at the large cliff face and saw his wife flinging arrows from her bow, aiming beautifully and killing five Orcs in quick succession. The roars got louder and the next sound was like mountains being split in two. Thranduil looked at the oddly-shaped fortress and his eyes widened at what he saw. A large creature covered in scales sat on the fortress, its claws gripping it to stay still. Its wings were folded against its body and its eyes were like balls of orange fire. It all came flooding back to Thranduil. The visions that Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel had shown Eletha had been true. The wind made his long hair billow around his shoulders and face and his gloved hands tightened around his two long swords. The dragon surveyed the battle below and growled, baring its razor-sharp teeth. Then, another dragon appeared next to the first one. No….Thranduil thought, his eyes wide. The dragons’ claws held onto the fortress of Gundabad and then, the first dragon that appeared let out a huge roar. The sound reverberated around the large landscape and because of the roar’s intensity, Thranduil was pretty sure that he had felt the earth crack beneath his armoured feet._

_A whooshing sound came from above. All the Elves looked up and even the Orc army got distracted by the dragons that had basically appeared out of nowhere. Thranduil saw a large winged shadow fly above the grey clouds, almost as if it was circling the area. He heard a snarl behind him and he spun around in a circle, his sword slicing an Orc’s head clean off. His hair fell about his armoured shoulders, a little messy from the cold wind. That’s three dragons. The King said in his mind. Just as he had thought that, he saw a different dragon’s tail emerge through the clouds above. That’s four. He recorrected the number in his head. He heard the beat of wings and he watched as one of the dragons flew off the fortress. It opened its mouth and fire came out of its mouth, smothering a large number of Orcs and Elves. The other three dragons revolved around the battlefield, roaring and spewing flame everywhere. It was no longer a war between the Elves of Greenwood and the Orcs of Gundabad. It was now a battle for survival. Many of the Orcs growled and tried to get cover by fleeing back into the fortress but many of them disappeared in dragonflame. Thranduil looked up at the cliff face to discover that his wife was no longer there. His gaze shifted to an elleth that was running down the mountain side, hopping from rock to rock, her long brown hair flying out behind her. What on Arda is she doing?! Why does she not listen to me? Thranduil shouted in his head, his nostrils flaring with irritation._

_Fire raged around him as he fought his way to Eletha. She quickly reached the ground and immediately started fighting the Orcs that surrounded her. Thranduil sheathed one of his swords and reached out to his wife, placing his hand on her arm. She turned around quickly, her hair flying into his face. She had her dagger raised but she lowered it when she realised it was Thranduil._

_“What are you doing here?! I told you specifically to stay up there on the cliff!” He screamed, his once-loving eyes full of fear and fright. Eletha pushed his hand off her._

_“I could not! I could not just stay up there and do nothing when the damn dragons were attacking!” She retorted. And then began their argument. After reuniting with Legolas on the battlefield, Thranduil continued to fight against the still-large number of Orcs while Eletha went to find the two golden-haired sisters. It was not long before Thranduil saw his wife push their son against a rock to shield him for the dragon’s fire. And then, she was gone, devoured in bright orange flame._

_“No! No!” The Elvenking yelled, his blue eyes full of horror, his mouth agape in shock. He fought his way to Legolas, consumed by rage at losing his beloved Queen in a mere second. The Orcs fell to their deaths as Thranduil sliced them to shreds, trying to get to his son. The next thing he felt was an excruciating pain on the left-hand side of his face. He screamed as the flame burnt away his beautiful perfect skin. He fell unconscious and did not even feel hitting the ground._

 

The King came back to the present and looked at the area below the cliff. He raised his hand as a signal for the army to stop. His eyes caught small figures running out of the Front Gate of Erebor and he knew they were Dwarves. Some of them were holding each other up as they stumbled out of their destroyed home. Because of Thranduil’s keen eyesight, he spotted the young Dwarf prince staggering across the ground. The King saw the prince look up at the cliff face and wave his arm, shouting out for help. Almost like he was begging.

Thranduil cocked his head to the side and looked down at Thorin. _There is no point now. The dragon has taken your home. I cannot do anything._ Thranduil told Thorin in his head but he knew that the Dwarf prince would not listen. _I know a dragon’s wrath. There is nothing I can do._ He said to himself. He slowly turned Aerandir around and put his back to the once-prospering kingdom of Erebor. His army marched with him and Tyaeron rode directly behind him, a little surprised that the King did not do anything. Not one thing. The King’s shoulders were slumped down in defeat and the former Captain knew that he wished that he could have done something. But Tyaeron also knew how bad a dragon’s wrath was. He knew that Thranduil did not want to risk the lives of his soldiers against a fire-breathing dragon. Not again. Never again.

 

**

 

“My King? Are you OK?”

The sound of Tyaeron’s voice was distant to Thranduil, like he was far far away. And Thranduil felt distant from everybody around him. He walked to his chambers, his eyes never blinking and his body limp. Tyaeron followed him just in case. The former Captain would hate to see his King collapsed on the pathway to his chambers so he appointed him as his personal minder. Not an assistant or a steward. Maeklin already had that job.

Thranduil reached his chambers and placed his left hand on the large doors. He looked over his shoulder and stared at Tyaeron with soft eyes.

“I need some time to myself, Tyaeron. I will summon you if I need you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure, Tyaeron. I am fine.”

The former Captain pressed his lips together and bowed his head. He nodded faintly and turned around, disappearing around the corner. Thranduil stayed still for a moment before pushing the doors to his chambers open and walking inside. He locked them behind him and removed the ornaments that made him look like an Elf King. Within seconds, he had removed his crown and had placed his long sword behind his clothes in the large wardrobe. He suddenly felt a searing pain on his face and he raised his hand to his cheek to discover that there was no skin there. In a panic, Thranduil rushed to the mirror and his eyes widened at his reflection.

Sinew, muscle and bone covered the left-hand side of his face. His perfect pale skin had been burnt away and he remembered the agonising pain when he felt the flame first lick his face. His left eye was milk white while his right eye remained the piercing pale blue. The burns felt tender as Thranduil delicately touched them with his fingertips. He pulled down the collar of his robes and saw that the burns extended down to his neck. They appeared like they were new, like he had just gotten them. He winced as he ghosted his fingers over his burns. _Valar, what would Eletha think if she saw me like this? Would she still love me? Would she even want to be in my presence when I look this hideous?_ He asked himself, knowing that he would never find the answers to the questions that burned in his mind all the time. A loud persistent knocking on the doors made the King jump.

“ _Adar_! _Adar_! I know you are in there!”

Legolas’s voice sounded desperate. It made the King sigh. _Not now. Please not now._ Thranduil pleaded, the pain of his burns flaring up. He closed his eyes and wished for the pain to go away. And he got his wish but not in the way that he had expected.

“ _Adar_! Please let us in.”

_Calarel…_ Thranduil thought his daughter’s name as his hand fell away from his burnt face. He looked at the closed doors and imagined his two children standing on the other side with worried expressions on their faces. When he looked back at his reflection, he realised that his burns had faded, replaced by his skin. _Something must have triggered the burns to go away. What is my daughter’s voice? My son’s pleading? No, it is my children._ He thought. He knew now. His children were his rock. They kept him grounded when he had nobody.

The King rolled his shoulders back and kept his head up high in confidence. He nodded at himself in the mirror and went to answer the door, ready to see his beloved children.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Adar – Father
  * ion-nin – my son
  * Naneth – Mother
  * melamin – my love
  * a'maelamin – my beloved



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done and dusted! I hope you enjoyed it! I love hearing what you guys think so keep those comments coming :)


	10. A Company Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eletha has been living in Rivendell peacefully. Then, one afternoon, a group of thirteen Dwarves, one Hobbit and one Wizard arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time, 4,000+ words and we see Eletha again! And I totally forgot about Melda and Valpantiel’s mother so she does make an appearance too! There is a time jump of about 60 years so we’re right in the thick of the Quest for Erebor :) Enjoy!

60 years later

 

The weather was beautiful. The season of Autumn had hit the picturesque Elven village and the colours of the leaves on the trees varied from yellow to red to amber. Eletha sat on a bench that overlooked one of the many rivers that ran through Imladris, her body clothed in a fitted green tunic that hung to the middle of her thighs and comfortable leggings hugged her slender legs with knee-high leather boots. The top-half of her hair had been pulled back in one single four-strand braid while the rest of her long locks hung loose over her shoulders and down her back. She sat back and breathed in the fresh air. She closed her eyes and imagined her husband’s lips covering her own in a soft yet passionate kiss. Eletha smiled to herself. By Valar, did she want to feel his kiss again! She opened her eyes and looked out at the place she was now living.

“But I cannot feel his kiss again. I never will.” She whispered to herself, her fingers weaving together in her lap. She looked down at the wedding ring that still sat on her finger. Eletha remembered the day that the Elvenking had slipped the ring onto her finger. It had been one of the best days of her life. Her heart had been so happy and full of love back then but now it was broken and fraught with grief and sadness. The autumn leaves fell from the trees above her and a few landed next to her on the bench. She picked them up gingerly in her hands and smiled as she ran her fingers over the crinkly and beautiful leaves. _He will be wearing his autumn crown now._ Eletha thought, her emerald green eyes shining with tears. She had loved that crown. She still did. She remembered the scent of the leaves and the fragrance of the red berries. She still remembered the aroma of her husband but she would never smell it again. Not ever.

“My Lady?”

Eletha jumped and looked to her right to see Lady Arwen standing beside the bench. Lord Elrond’s daughter was dressed in a glorious pale blue gown that made her sapphire eyes shine even brighter. The light colour of her gown made her black hair appear darker, beautiful waves rippling down to her waist. The sleeves were pointed and hung to her knees and Eletha also noticed that the dark-haired elleth was barefoot.

“Oh, hello, Arwen.” Eletha smiled.

“May I join you?”

“Of course, _mellon-nin_.” The brown-haired elleth nodded and patted the bench with her right hand. Arwen smiled softly and sat down next to Eletha, her dress falling to her ankles. The Queen (or former Queen as Eletha calls herself) looked out onto the horizon. The sun was high in the sky but its light was soft. Even though Eletha loved living in Rivendell, it did not match the happiness she felt when she lived in the palace back in Greenwood. She missed roaming the halls and corridors and walking along paths and up and down stone staircases. She missed the sound of the cascading waterfalls hitting the rocks and disappearing into the cavernous areas below. The grandness of the palace was amazing, way larger than Rivendell and more earthy, more rooted to the ground. And because Eletha was a Silvan Elf, she cared much about nature, like any other Elf, but she loved the forest completely. Before she had met Thranduil, the forest had been her great love. Because of her heritage, she felt like she was a part of the earth. A part of the ground but she was no longer in her home. She was far away in a place that she would never call home. But Eletha did not go back to Greenwood for herself, for her enjoyment. She never went home because she wanted to keep the people that she loved and cared about, the people that she wished to protect, safe from harm. _Maybe the only way I can keep them safe is by separating myself from them._ Eletha convinced herself every day that her loved ones were safer without her in their lives. But sometimes it was so hard. And on top of that, she had nightmares every now and then. Nightmares about war and battle. Nightmares about Tarrol hurting her and her family. She would wake up sweating and tears streamed down her face as she tried to get back to sleep. But sometimes she never did. There were nights when she could not sleep and she would stay awake for 24 hours because she simply could not sleep. Because she did not want to have any more nightmares.

Arwen glanced at the Silvan Elf next to her and saw her green eyes turn glassy. She had become close with Eletha over the past couple of centuries and during Eletha’s sadness about being hundreds of leagues away from the people that she loved, Arwen looked at her and treated her like a younger sister. Took her under her wing and comforted her as best as she could. Arwen’s gaze went to Eletha’s hands and saw a bunch of leaves crumpled in between her fingers. It looked like she had crunched them hard, exposing her emotions about how she was feeling in that moment.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Arwen asked, breaking the silence. Eletha looked down at her lap and tightened her fingers around the coloured leaves.

“I miss everyone.” She muttered, blinking away fresh tears. She raised her head and looked at Arwen, her bottom lip very red from biting it too much.

“Do you miss Estel?”

Arwen’s eyes widened. It had only been a year since the young mortal had left Rivendell to go North. He was training to be a Ranger, to be one of the Dúnedain. She had fallen in love with him and now she was separated from him. She remembered when she first laid eyes on him when he was much younger. He had been an attractive-looking boy and he had grown into a handsome young man. Arwen knew what she was giving up by falling for a mortal man. And she knew that Estel knew too. She had caught him singing the song of Beren and Lúthien many times during the night. But Arwen loved him. She loved Aragorn. And that’s all she cared about.

“Yes, I do. He was a fresh presence here.” The Lady of Imladris answered, nodding, her sapphire eyes sparkling. Eletha had formed a special bond with Arwen over the last year, ever since Estel had left. They were both detached from their true love and their hearts wept to be with them again. Eletha left the leaves fall out of her hands and drop to the stone ground. She ran her fingers over each other and looked at Arwen, reaching out her hand to her. Arwen knew what she was about to do and she slowly reached out to Eletha’s hand and then, their fingers connected and they held hands. Eletha had grown to love Arwen as a sister of sorts because she did not have Melda or Valpantiel with her anymore. They looked out for each other and being in each other’s company lifted their spirits a little bit.

“Where are your brothers, Arwen?” Eletha asked, a gentle smile on her face.

“You know what? I actually do not know. Shall we go and look for them?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Eletha laughed and the two of them stood up. They let go of each other’s hands and Arwen hooked her left arm through Eletha’s left. And off the two ellith went, searching for the mischievous sons of Lord Elrond.

They reached the large fountain that stood beside a cascading waterfall and saw thin layers of clothing draped on the stone ground in front of the fountain. Arwen peered at the clothing curiously and let go of Eletha’s arm.

“Well, these are definitely my brothers’ clothes.” She said, picking up what looked like a purple velvet cloak.

“I wonder where they are.” Eletha said, looking from left to right but there was no sight of the two ellyn. Then, at that moment, she felt water dumped over her head, drenching her skin, hair and clothes. Her mouth fell open but no sound came out as she rubbed her eyes, getting the water out. Eletha looked to her right to see that Arwen was also covered in water from head to toe, her beautiful black hair completely wet. Eletha heard giggles from above so she looked up. And there were Elladan and Elrohir, seated high up in the trees, holding large vases that had obviously held the water.

“I am going to kill you two!” Eletha yelled, gritting her teeth as she ran her fingers through her wet hair which proved to be difficult because the strands had stuck together.

“No, you won’t. You love us!” Elladan laughed.

“I am starting to regret telling you guys that I loved you.” Eletha said, gathering the hem of her tunic and twisting it, getting rid of the water that had soaked through.

“Will you two ever grow up? Seriously, I do not know where you got your… impish personalities from. _Adar_ was never like this and neither was _Naneth_.” Arwen grumbled, her beautiful dress sticking to her skin. Eletha draped all of her hair down her left shoulder and squeezed the water out, letting it drip to the ground. The two ellyn climbed down the trees agilely and returned the vases to the side of the fountain. Elladan and Elrohir were twins but Eletha could tell who was who. At first, she had been completely confused but she managed to examine their moods and behaviours and saw minor differences between the two of them.

“If _Adar_ was here…” Arwen said, her blue eyes wide with irritation.

“He knows we do this kind of stuff.” Elrohir shrugged his shoulders.

“Where is he anyway?” Eletha asked, still squeezing out water from her hair.

“He is hunting. A band of Orcs were seen close to our borders so he went to check it out.” Elladan answered. Eletha nodded and continued to get rid of as much water as she could while Arwen squeezed her drenched hair, drops of water falling onto the stone ground.

“My Lady!” A voice called.

Eletha and Arwen turned around to see who was coming. The healer, Ilyrana, came around the corner, her blue gown swishing about her feet. The mother of Melda and Valpantiel remained ageless with her long golden hair, violet eyes and flawless skin.

“What is it, Ilyrana?” Arwen asked.

“My ladies, my lords, a group of Dwarves have been seen emerging from the Hidden Pass. They are heading this way.”

“Why would Dwarves come _here_?” Eletha questioned, furrowing her eyebrows as her gaze darted from the healer to the children of Lord Elrond.

“No-one knows, my Lady, but it is not just Dwarves who are coming.” Ilyrana said. The four other Elves looked at her inquisitively.

“What do you mean?” Eletha asked.

“There is an old man with them.”

“An old man?” Elladan repeated. But that was not Eletha’s question. Hers was completely different.

“What does he look like?”

“I do not know, my Lady. He is too far away.”

“Is he wearing a pointy hat?”

Now all eyes were on Eletha but she kept her gaze to her best friends’ mother.

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Does he have a staff?”

“Uh, yes, my Lady.”

Eletha’s face fell and panic flashed in her bright eyes. _Oh, no! This is a nightmare…Please let this be a nightmare…_ She pleaded but she did not wake up because it was reality. The Elves stared at her, wondering why she was so alarmed.

“How far away are they?”

“They are coming down to the valley right now. They will be here in about five minutes.” Ilyrana answered. Eletha did not say anything and quickly rushed past the golden-haired healer, her breaths hurried and fast.

“Eletha! What is wrong? Who is coming?” Elladan shouted as she ran off.

“He is here. Gandalf is here!” Eletha cried back as she rushed up the stairs and turned the corner, looking for shelter in her chambers. _He cannot see me. He cannot. He will tell Thranduil._ She thought as she ran through Rivendell, praying that the Grey Wizard would not discover her.

 

**

 

It had been an hour before anyone came and visited Eletha. She had hidden herself in her chambers and had locked the doors. She sat on the ground, away from anyone’s view just in case someone saw her on the balcony, resting her back against her bed. _No-one can find me. Especially not Gandalf. He will tell the King. He will. I know it. He cannot find me._ The majority of Middle-Earth believed that the Queen of Greenwood was dead and Eletha wanted it to stay that way. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees, her still-damp hair falling over her shoulders. Tears once again pricked her eyes but she fought them. _I am not an elfling. Stop crying, Eletha. Stop it._ She told herself and took deep breaths, calming herself down. Someone knocked three times on the other side of the door and Eletha’s eyes snapped up in alarm. She got up from the floor slowly, not making a sound. Eletha had changed out of her wet clothes, now wearing a simple lilac dress that was loose and free flowing. She quietly padded over the door on her bare feet and rested her ear against the door, her hands resting on the door too.

“Who is it?” Eletha whispered.

“It is me, my Lady.”

Eletha sighed with relief and opened the door quickly, letting the ellon inside.

“Oh, my lord, I am pleased that it was you.”

“Who did you think it was?” Elrond asked as he took a seat on the edge of the elleth’s bed.

“Who do you think?” Eletha said, raising her eyebrows. Elrond parted his lips and stared at Eletha with friendly dark eyes.

“Ah, Mithrandir.”

Eletha nodded, lowering her eyes to the floor, fiddling with her fingers. Lord Elrond noticed that her hair was a little damp and for all he knew, none of Eletha’s handmaidens had come to give her a bath and Eletha would never have a bath in the afternoon. But he decided to ask anyway.

“Did you have a bath, my Lady?”

Eletha raised her eyes from the floor and looked at Lord Elrond with a surprised expression. She then realised that her hair was still damp. She played with the heavy strands and opened her mouth to speak.

“Oh, this? No, uh, your sons decided to douse Arwen and I in water for fun. Damn rascals.” Eletha muttered as she ran her fingers through her damp locks.

“Once the Dwarves are gone, I will have words with my sons. But they never seem to listen.” Elrond said which made Eletha smile a little but it quickly faded.

“May I ask what a bunch of Dwarves are doing here? In Rivendell of all places?”

Elrond sighed and patted his hand on the bed, indicating that Eletha should take a seat next to him. So she did, folding her dress underneath her.

“The Dwarves who have come are no ordinary Dwarves, Eletha. In fact, a few of them are royalty in the Dwarven world.”

“Really? What are their names?” Eletha asked, her voice worried and intrigued at the same time. Elrond took a deep breath and looked at Eletha solemnly before answering.

“The leader of the group is Thorin Oakenshield.”

The room suddenly became suddenly silent. The only sounds that were heard were the chirping of birds and the whoosh of the breeze. Eletha was no short of shocked that the heir to Erebor was in the same place as she was. She had never met him before but she knew that Thranduil and Tyaeron had. She had heard the stories of his grandfather and father, the dragon sickness and the battle at Moria. Thrór had been murdered by Azog the Defiler and Thráin had disappeared after that battle, probably driven made with grief. At least, that’s what the tales said.

“Why is the heir to Erebor here in Rivendell? He cannot be just passing through from the goodness of his heart.” Eletha said.

“It is true that Thorin’s…unfriendliness to us Eldar is well-known.”

“The term ‘unfriendliness’ would be putting it lightly, my lord.” The elleth scoffed.

“The other surprising thing is that he was carrying an Elven sword with him. Orcrist. And Mithrandir is carrying its mate, Glamdring. Apparently they found them in a troll hoard near the Great East Road. The Dwarves and Mithrandir came here through the Hidden Pass which is where my battalion and I slaughtered a band of Orcs. The group were what drew the Orcs close to here.” Elrond explained.

“So you do not know why Thorin is here?”

“No, not yet. But I will meet with him tonight. Then I will know.”

Eletha nodded and looked down at her lap. She thought she would be safe in Rivendell. That no-one important would come and maybe find her. That was not her plan. _I must remain dead to the world of Middle-Earth. No-one can know._ She said to herself. Lord Elrond noticed her anxiety and frankly, he could not blame her. He had promised to keep her secret and kept it he had. But with fifteen other people now in his home, her plan in hiding would become difficult. He laid his right hand over hers in consolation and friendship. Though her being alive remained unknown to the majority of Middle-Earth, it was no secret that Lord Elrond cared for Eletha like a daughter. He was far older than Thranduil and therefore, far older than Eletha too. She appreciated his affection and his promise in keeping her secret a secret.

“I know you are scared that someone may discover you here alive. But, to make things better for you, I have placed the Dwarves, Mithrandir and the Hobbit on the other side of Imladris. I am fairly sure that they will be entertained there and they will not come close to you.”

“How will they be entertained? As far as I know, Dwarves are not fond of Elven activity.” Eletha chuckled softly.

“The Dwarves will entertain themselves. With food and fire, they will be just fine.” Elrond said. Eletha nodded again, her eyes sparkling like emeralds. _I hope they do not find me._ She thought. Elrond sighed and patted her hand.

“I must go now, my Lady. My absence will appear suspicious if I am away too long.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Elrond nodded his head and stood up. He was about to walk to the door when he felt Eletha pull on his hand. He looked down at her to see that her eyes were full of apology and dread.

“I am sorry that I have placed this huge burden on you, my lord. But I will appreciate it if you do not reveal that I am here when you speak with Thorin and Mithrandir tonight.”

“My Lady, my dear Eletha, when you came here, you sought refuge and that is what I shall give you until you no longer want it. I will continue to guard your secret because, as I have told you before, it is not mine to reveal. Only yours.” Elrond said, a gentle smile on his pale face.

“ _Diola lle_ , my lord Elrond. You have my most sincerest gratitude.” Eletha whispered, her fingers slowly slipping away from his hand. The Lord of Imladris bowed his head and placed a kiss on her knuckles before her hand fell away from his grasp. And then, he left her chambers, his lavish tawny robes trailing out behind him. When he was gone, Eletha locked the doors, making sure that no-one could get in. Now she had to be more careful. Now she was a prisoner in the place that she thought she would never be discovered.

 

**

 

It was a cool Autumn evening when the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. Eletha had remained in her chambers and Lindir had brought her dinner when Lord Elrond went to talk with Thorin and other members of his Company. None of the Dwarves nor Gandalf had found her and she had breathed a sigh of relief. It was their second night here and Eletha was starting to get a little worried. _When are they going to leave?_ She thought. The positive thing was that none of the Dwarves knew who she really was or what she looked like and neither did the Hobbit. It was Mithrandir that she feared would find her. Eletha could only imagine how shocked he would then. How horrified he would be. Like Thranduil, Gandalf did have a form of wrath that many people, including Eletha, feared. He was one of the Istari, of course. He was not a mortal man. He was much more powerful than that and Eletha was frightened at what he would do if he discovered her.

The Elven village was quiet so Eletha could hear everything. Because she was an Elf, she did have a keen sense of hearing as well as sight. She was leaning against the stone wall of her chambers, her head resting back. Curtains had been added this time she was here and they blew around her from the balcony, the material a soft cotton. Then, she heard voices. A pair of voices. She turned around and looked out over the balcony to see two tall figures walking across a pathway many metres away from her.

“Were you going to tell me?”

_That’s Elrond._

“Of course I was going to tell you.”

_And that’s Gandalf! Oh, Valar! He must not see me._ Eletha thought. She shifted so that she was on the floor and she moved her way to the balcony. She peered through the gaps in the construction of the balcony and spotted Elrond and Gandalf walking side-by-side. Gandalf looked exactly the same, dressed in his grey robes with his hair just as curly and his voice just as commanding, his staff in his hand. Elrond had changed his tawny robes for another pair that was a deep blue with a matching cloak. He morphed into the colours of his village and his dark hair braided in its usual style.

“I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing.” Gandalf said.

“Do you?” Elrond sounded very unconvinced, as most Elves often did when Gandalf said something along those lines. After all, the Elves were the guardians of Middle-Earth and Gandalf was a Wizard sent down from above to help protect Middle-Earth. The Elves had been here since the very beginning and Eletha knew that they would be here until the very end.

“That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast-” Elrond said but Gandalf cut him off.

“But if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the Mountain, our defences in the East will be strengthened.”

“It is a dangerous move, Gandalf.” Elrond said and they stopped walking, halting in the middle of the pathway. Eletha had to process what the two denizens were talking about. She had heard about the day that Erebor fell to the ire of the dragon named Smaug. Eletha herself knew the damage dragons could do so she could not help but feel pity for the Dwarves. They had lost their home to that terrible creature and all they were trying to do what to reclaim it. But Eletha could also see Elrond’s view on it. If the Dwarves failed, if they woke the dragon, no-one could predict what destruction he would do. Anywhere and everywhere. It was a precarious move and it would be ever more precarious if the Dwarves ended up being unsuccessful.

“It is also dangerous to do nothing! Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birthright. What is it you fear?” Gandalf asked. Eletha watched the two of them for one more moment before her gaze strayed elsewhere. On top of a staircase directly opposite Eletha, double the amount away she was from Elrond and Gandalf, were two other people. She noticed they were quite short. One had dark hair and the other had curly brown locks. The dark-haired person was a little taller and he looked much more regal in his clothing. Then it all came together for Eletha. _That is Thorin Oakenshield. And that is the Hobbit that Elrond was talking about. It looks like I am not the only one eavesdropping on this conversation._ It was a miracle that Elrond and Gandalf had not noticed the Dwarf and the Hobbit because they were right out in the open but they were too occupied with their serious talk.

“Have you forgotten, Mithrandir? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?”

Eletha did understand Elrond’s point. What if Thorin got his homeland back, if they killed the dragon, what if he fell into the same gold sickness that his grandfather had? What then? Will he hoard even more gold and another dragon might come? It was known that Mithrandir liked to meddle in affairs and change people’s mind with a single sentence. He always believed in the good side of things which Eletha admired greatly but when there was a good side, there was a bad side. And Eletha feared about what would happen if the Dwarves failed. Then the fury of a great dragon would rain down upon everyone. Just like what had happened in Gundabad so many decades ago.

 

Elvish Translations

  * mellon-nin – my friend
  * Adar – Father
  * Naneth – Mother
  * Diola lle – Thank you



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m surprised I got an update posted this week because I witnessed something terrible on Tuesday. I’d rather not say what it was but I was (and still am) very traumatised so I struggled to write but here we are, and I updated! I love writing Hobbit scenes from Eletha’s perspective, it’s really fun! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I’ll see you next week where we will be in Rivendell once again :)


	11. A Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Galadriel confronts Eletha about her ‘death’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I’m posting a little earlier because I’m busy tomorrow and I won’t have any time to update. It’s a 4,000+ word chapter and don’t forget to drop me a comment to let me know your thoughts because I fear that I have lost some of my readers!

_I know you are alive._

The elleth with chocolate brown hair opened her eyes and her stomach began to twist, her heart beating loudly. She knew that voice. She had heard it before. Eletha sat against the wall and hugged her legs to her chest, her hair falling over her shoulders. _I have been found. No…_ She thought with worry, blood coursing hot through her veins.

_I am coming to you now. Do not shut me out, Eletha._

It was morning now and Eletha scarcely got any sleep. The Dwarves had left and for a couple of hours, she had thought that she was safe from discovery. Now, all of that hope had disappeared into a pool of worry. _How did she know I was here? How?_ Eletha asked herself, her body melting with fear. The morning sunlight streamed in, lighting the chambers up in a beautiful golden glow. She felt lost. She _was_ lost. Lost in the depths of her distress and panic. She realised that she was trembling. She wrapped her arms around her legs and drew her knees closer to her chest. A coldness gripped her heart, squeezing it. Eletha was frightened that she would have a panic attack. That she would stop breathing. But she managed to control her breathing but it did nothing to calm her racing heart. _In and out. In and out. In and out._ She repeated in her mind, trying to get the message through. _Why can’t I just remain dead? Maybe I should have really died. Then I would not have to worry and I could protect and watch over my loved ones from above._ The reason that Eletha had restless nights and minimal hours of sleep was because she thought of how saddened her family and friends were. They thought she was _really_ dead and they had no clue that she was alive or where she was currently residing from the generosity and kindness of Lord Elrond.

A knock came from her door. It was the knock that she had been dreading for so long. Eletha did not move from her spot and just stared at the door, never blinking and her heart continuing to thump too fast. She trembled. She could not face the person who was standing on the other side of the door. She never wanted to. _She will tell Thranduil for sure. But…she already knows that I am alive. Why did she not go to him straightaway? Does she need living proof? Maybe she needs to **see** me, to see if her premonitions were correct. _Eletha thought. There was another knock but once again, Eletha did not move. She kept her eyes locked to the door but she did not answer it. _I cannot look at her in the eye. I simply cannot._ Right at that moment, instead of a third knock, there was an angelic voice floating through the door.

“Eletha. Open the door. I mean you no harm.”

Her voice was like pure velvet, so silky and soft. Yet commanding and dominant. It held such a power that Eletha finally rose from the stone floor. Her soft blue gown fell to the floor and the pointed sleeves fell to her ankles. She slowly walked towards the door, not making a sound, the fabric of her dress grazing the floor. Eletha reached the door and placed her hand on the lock. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and unlocked the door. The lock clicked and Eletha opened the door. She peeked through and her green eyes became fraught with panic.

“Lady Galadriel.”

The Lady of Light was indeed standing before her, ageless and beautiful as ever. Her blue eyes were not as bright as Thranduil but told a larger story than his did. She had lived for quite a few millennia. She was far older than Eletha’s age and Thranduil’s age put together. She was an old spirit and one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, of all the Eldar in Arda.

“Eletha.”

Her voice was _so_ soft, so gentle. She looked absolutely beautiful in a glorious pure white gown inlaid with tiny crystals on the neckline and sheer sleeves. A large brooch sat on the front of the dress and the waves of her golden hair poured down her back to her waist. A silver circlet decorated with metal flowers adorned her regal head and her eyes were the bluest blue, soft and cold at the same time, young and old at the same time. Eletha was as still as a statue as she stared the golden-haired elleth, her green eyes not blinking.

“May I come in?” Galadriel asked. Eletha gripped the edge of the door tightly, unsure if she should let the other elleth inside. But she concluded that it was better for her to come inside rather than talk with her outside. So Eletha nodded. Galadriel nodded back and glided into the chambers, her white gown trailing out behind her, her hands clasped in front of her. Eletha shut the door quickly and locked it so that no-one could get in. Galadriel walked out on the balcony and looked out over the expanse of Rivendell, the rush of water very calming. Eletha thought that Galadriel looked like one of the Valar, her body bathed in golden light, lighting up her up in an ethereal glow. But her intelligence was just as magnificent as her beauty. It had been many decades since Eletha had seen the Lady of Light. Not since the war council before the battle at Gundabad. Galadriel had not changed at all, neither in appearance or intellect. Eletha found it most disconcerting when Galadriel did not speak. It made her even more anxious than she already was. _I have been discovered._ She thought.

_Worry not, Eletha. I only wish to speak with you._

Galadriel’s voice entered her head once again. Eletha looked at the elleth’s back and rolled her shoulders back, holding her head high with confidence.

“If you wish to speak with me, Lady Galadriel, I suggest to talk to me with your mouth and not your mind.”

“You always did have a way with words. I am pleased to see that that part of you has not changed.” Galadriel said without turning to look at Eletha but the brown-haired elleth could sense that the Lady of Light was smiling.

“Join me, Eletha.”

Eletha stayed where she was for a moment, not moving. Then, she took a deep breath and walked forward, her gown falling to the stone floor. The sun was warm and gentle on her bare skin, her hair completely still down her back. She came to a halt next to Galadriel and rested her hands on the stone railing. The Valley of Imladris glowed like a glimmering gem, greenery peeking through the Elven civilisation. Eletha could feel the other elleth’s eyes on her but she did not return her gaze. She could not bring herself to come to terms what she had actually done. She had left her husband and children alone, not telling them that she in fact still lived and was in perfect condition. Now being discovered by Galadriel, Eletha started to doubt her decision by not going back to Greenwood. That was where her home was. Where her heart truly wanted to be.

“I can sense your anxiety. And terror. Why are you frightened, Eletha?”

Eletha closed her eyes, letting the warm sunlight serenade her eyelids, her vision red. She lowered her head to the floor and sighed, stopping the tears that were threatening to appear. She swallowed deeply and opened her eyes, slowly raising them to Lady Galadriel. The much older elleth looked at her gently, her blue eyes displaying a very long history.

“Because I have been found.”

“Of all the things to be frightened of, that’s it? Because you have been found alive?” Galadriel said with a gentle smirk that did not reach her stunning blue eyes. Eletha narrowed her eyes at her in confusion. Galadriel’s smirk widened at the look on Eletha’s face. Then, she spoke.

“I understand that you wished to never be discovered but you must have known that you would not remain dead forever.”

“My decision to stay dead now seems ridiculous when you say it out loud.” Eletha muttered.

“Believe me, that was never my intent. But I must say, it is wonderful to see you alive and well.”

Eletha peered at her curiously. This is not the conversation she had expected to have with the Lady Galadriel. She thought she would have received a scolding and Galadriel would then tell Thranduil. The Lady of Light simply stood still, her pale hands clasped in front of her.

“Really?” Eletha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course. You do not know the grief that swept through not just the Elven realms but many other places in Middle-Earth. Men and even Dwarves all offered their condolences to King Thranduil. So many people were shocked and sorrowful that you perished. Or at least they thought you did.”

“Please…No-one must know. Especially not the…King. Please do not tell him.” Eletha begged.

“That leads me to my next inquiry. Why don’t you go home and reunite with your loved ones? They miss you greatly.” Galadriel stated.

“How do you know that? Have you been to see them?”

“No. I spoke to Thranduil in his mind. He wept when he told me what he was feeling. Eletha, he is distraught. I have never seen him so upset and vulnerable.” Galadriel explained, a soft look on her face. Eletha sucked on her lower lip and looked out at Rivendell, her eyes scanning over Elves wandering across pathways and the birds chirped in the trees, the land alive in colours of yellow and amber. Eletha did not want to imagine how much anguish her husband was feeling. _He must feel guilty for not stopping me. But he cannot blame himself. It was not his fault. It was my decision to go. I have brought this upon myself. If someone is to blame, it is me._ She said to herself in her mind. The sadness in his crystalline eyes that she had fallen in love with the first moment she looked into them. The grief on his broken face, his bottom lip trembling as he remembered her, wishing that she was not dead. It made her heart cry. _Will I ever see him again? Will I see him in Valinor? Will we be together again in the Halls of Mandos?_ The dangers of the world kept them apart and it worried Eletha that they would be separate forever. _My children…My two perfect glorious children…I will never see them again. Is Legolas with Tauriel now? I knew that he cared for her very deeply? Is Calarel happy? Is she safe? Is Thranduil protecting them with his life?_ These were the thoughts that haunted Eletha’s mind every single night. While Thranduil was lost, so was Eletha. She drowned in the sadness of her thoughts all the time, her heart saying ‘ _Return to Thranduil_ ’. And she fought that all the time. It was hard but not impossible.

“How long has it been?” Galadriel asked.

“Over two centuries.” Eletha sighed.

“That is far too long to be separated from the person that you love. You need him. I can see it from the look on your face.”

“I understand your point, Galadriel, but my needs are not of importance when I care for my family and friends more than I do for myself. I only wish to protect the people I love from harm. I just want them to be safe.”

“But how would your return to Greenwood endanger your family? You are loved by many, Eletha. The beloved Queen of the Woodland Realm. The great wife of King Thranduil, the only person that can control him.”

Galadriel’s words made Eletha crack a smile. It was true that Eletha did have a certain influence over Thranduil sometimes. She could rein him in and calm him down. She was the only one who could really break him.

“Do you remember when the King was poisoned?” Eletha asked. Galadriel nodded.

_I do._

“I discovered the ellon who was behind his poisoning. He did it to get back at me because he tried to take me for himself one night many decades ago. I decided not to return home to keep my family safe from the ellon because I know that he would attack again if I was with them. He would attack my children and he would try to kill my husband again. I thought that the only way to keep them safe from him is if I stay away. I would rather be many leagues away from them than hold their dead bodies in my arms. I just cannot.”

Her knees felt like they were about to give out. She felt weak and worn out by misery, her heart melting into nothing as she remembered all of the times that she was in Thranduil’s arms. The pressure of his lips on hers and their naked bodies tangled as one in the middle of their passionate lovemaking. Eletha sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, her fingers gripping the stone railing in front of her.

“So Thranduil has no idea where you are?” Galadriel’s question broke the silence.

“He does not. He does not know that I still live. I want to remain dead so he can survive and live on.”

“Who knows?”

“Just Elrond and a small group of Elves here in Rivendell. And now you.”

“So Mithrandir nor the Dwarves knew you were here?”

“No. And how did _you_ know I was here?” Eletha asked.

“I heard you. Your thoughts were quite loud.” Galadriel answered, her gaze now moving to the Valley of Imladris. Eletha cursed herself for thinking too much. Her fingers tightened on the railing and gentle pain flashed through her fingernails. _I think too much. One day, it might actually be the death of me. My **real** death. _Sometimes, Eletha wished that she really had died. Then everything would have been so much more simpler. Thranduil would live on, loving his children and protecting his realm, and he would not have to find Eletha because she was dead. Really truly dead. Then, Eletha remembered something.

“Back up a minute. You said “Of all the things to be frightened of, that’s it? Because you have been found alive?” What did you mean by that? Is there something else that I should be frightened of?”

Galadriel softly smiled again. She raised her right hand and placed it on the stone railing next to Eletha’s. The brown-haired elleth looked down and saw a beautiful ring sitting on Galadriel’s middle finger. A pure white stone was set in the centre and a web of material covered it. It sparkled in the golden light of the sun. Just from the look of it, Eletha knew that it was one of the Three Elven Rings. When she still ‘lived’ in the palace, she went to the library countless times because she was fascinated about Elven history as well as history of other civilisations. She had read about the Three Elven Rings and what power they held. Eletha knew that Lord Elrond had one of them too but she had never seen it. Seeing an Elven Ring of incredible power was a sight to behold. It was beautiful and deadly.

“This is Nenya. The Ring of Adamant.”

“I remember it. I saw you wearing it when I came to Lothlórien.” Eletha said.

“I have beared this ring for a long time. I have kept it hidden until it can be useful. And the time has arisen that it might be.” Galadriel declared.

“What do you mean?” Eletha asked worriedly. Galadriel had just opened her mouth to speak when there was a knock on the door. Both ellith looked in the direction of the door, blue and green eyes wide. Eletha looked at Galadriel who returned her gaze.

_Answer it._

Eletha nodded and pressed her lips together.

“Who is it?”

“It is I, my Lady.”

Usually, Eletha was pleased to hear Lord Elrond’s voice. But today, she was scared and did not want to open the door. No-one knew that Galadriel had found Eletha. _How will he react? Oh, no…_ She looked back at Lady Galadriel with a look that said “What do I do?”

_Open the door. Elrond is a gentle spirit. He would not hurt you._

It was the truth. Eletha had received nothing but shelter and kindness from the Lord of Imladris. He had been so incredibly sympathetic and caring, taking her in like she was one of his own. Eletha nodded again and left Galadriel’s side, walking to the door. She stopped with her hand on the lock, her eyes closed. Her heart was racing, thumping against her ribcage.

“My Lady, are you OK?”

“Yes, I am fine, _heruamin_. Just give me a moment.” Eletha said, clearing her clogged-up throat. She rolled her shoulders back, raised her head confidently, unlocked the door and opened it. She was met with the kind dark eyes of Lord Elrond. He was dressed in midnight blue robes with a matching tunic, paired with black leggings and boots. His hair was braided back in its usual style and a simple gold circlet adorned his regal head.

“Hello, _mellon-nin_. You look scared. Your eyes were full of fright. Is something wrong?”

Eletha stared at him for a moment before deciding that she could not answer his question with words. She moved to the side, her left hand still on the door, showing Lady Galadriel to Lord Elrond. His eyes widened when he saw the Lady of Light standing on the balcony, her white garment curled around her ankles gracefully. His gaze darted from Galadriel to Eletha, back and forth to both ellith. Eletha bit her lip and Elrond walked into the chambers slowly, Eletha shutting the door behind him, locking it again. She rested her forehead on the door and let out a sigh. _This is not the way I wanted it to be._ She thought. Because her back was to the two other Elves, she did not see the shocked expression that Elrond gave Galadriel. The golden-haired elleth merely remained stone-faced, her blue eyes completely bright yet not saying anything. Elrond turned around to speak to Eletha.

“How did she find you?”

Eletha opened her eyes and slowly turned around, her back resting against the locked door. She gave Elrond an apologetic look, her hands clasped behind her.

“She heard my thoughts. Apparently, they are loud.”

Elrond’s gaze went to Galadriel who still did not say anything. The Elven Lord closed his eyes and sighed, raising his hands to his face. Eletha noticed that he wore a ring on the middle finger of his left hand. It had a gold band and the stone in the centre was a large sapphire, matching the colour of his attire. _There is another Elven Ring._ Eletha said to herself. She watched Lord Elrond rubbed his face in frustration and what looked like failure.

“ _Heruamin_? _Mani naa ta_?” Eletha asked, leaning forward, her hands now sitting at her sides. Elrond sighed into his hands before lowering them and looking at Eletha with contrite eyes.

“ _Amin hiraetha_.”

Eletha’s eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, her lips parting.

“What for?”

“You came here to never be discovered. You trusted me to guard your secret. I have failed you, Eletha.” Lord Elrond said sadly, his facial expression matching the tone of his voice. Eletha could not believe what she was hearing. _He thinks it is his fault?! How can he think that? First, Thranduil blames himself for my ‘death’, probably. Legolas probably does too. And now Elrond blames himself for something that is **definitely** not his fault. _Eletha looked at Lady Galadriel who remained motionless on the balcony, the sunlight glowing around her tall elegant body. Eletha looked back at Elrond who was now sitting on the edge of the neatly-made bed, his robes falling to the stone floor. His eyes were glassy and they never blinked, his hands clasped together in his lap.

“My lord Elrond…it is not your fault.” Eletha said, breaking the cold silence. The much older Elves looked at her, two pairs of eyes that each told a long and different history from the other. Eletha was in the presence of two of the most powerful Eldar in Middle-Earth, both wearing an Elven Ring of Power. She got a sick feeling in her stomach when she realised who these two Eves really were. They were old and wise but looked young and ageless. They were beautiful and lethal. They were full of wisdom and were strong. Elrond titled his head faintly at Eletha, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“She is right.”

Galadriel’s voice was like a gentle whoosh of air. So gentle but held so much truth and power. Elrond and Eletha looked at her as she glided back inside the chambers, her arms hanging by her sides, her dress trailing out behind her as she moved. Eletha looked back at Lord Elrond and walked over to him. She went down on her knees before him and raised her right hand to his cheek. He looked down at her softly, as if a father would to his daughter.

“You are not to blame, my lord. If someone is to be held responsible, it is me. It was my choice to stay here and never return home. It is my fault that it backfired on me. So I will not sit here and listen to you blame yourself.” Eletha whispered, her voice like a thin mist that cloaked a simple valley. Beautiful and soft, just like an angel. Elrond placed his left hand over her and looked down at her with the softest eyes that Eletha had ever seen. The sapphire ring on his finger shone from the sunlight outside that streamed into the chambers like rivers of gold. Eletha turned her hand around and took hold of Elrond’s, placing it back in his lap. She looked at his ring intently, wondering which one it was. She ran her thumb over the sapphire, suddenly remembering the name of the ring.

“Vilya.” Eletha murmured ever so softly.

“The Ring of the Firmament. Mightiest of all Three Rings.” Elrond added.

“The time is nigh.” Galadriel said. Eletha and Elrond turned their heads to look at her, waiting for her to speak again.

“The Rings will be of use very soon. Something else awaits in the shadows. It will not show itself and it will not ignore us.”

Eletha swallowed a lump in her throat. Her stomach twisted and turned at Galadriel’s words. Elrond saw Eletha’s face morph into one of perplexity and terror. He felt her hand tighten in his and he squeezed it back. He knew that she was asking the question: “What does she mean?” Elrond knew, of course, because he had part of the White Council meeting. The revelation of the Morgul Blade that Mithrandir placed on the table before them meant that something evil was brewing in the old fortress of Dol Guldur. He remembered the letter that Thranduil had sent to him. When Valpantiel had gone there and had heard Sauron’s voice. But he hid his identity, calling himself the Necromancer, building up his strength and bidding his time, waiting to strike.

“A Morgul Blade has been found.” Elrond said. Eletha looked up at him, her green eyes fraught with fright. Her fingers constricted around his, wanting to know more, no matter how terrified she was. _Better to be scared and know everything than to be scared and know nothing._ She told herself.

“A Morgul Blade?” She repeated.

“It was found by Radagast in Dol Guldur. The Witch-king of Angmar was buried there and the blade was made for him. But a powerful spell lies upon his tomb. It is impenetrable but Radagast found it and we have no idea how.” Elrond continued.

“Does that mean that the Nine will return? Will Sauron return? Is Middle-Earth in danger?” Eletha asked hurriedly. She now understood Galadriel’s words. _My plan to keep my family safe is no longer the most important thing now. Middle-Earth is now vulnerable to a great danger. My home…my life…everything is in trouble._ Eletha felt Elrond tug on her hand and he pulled her to her feet. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and he let go of her hand.

“We do not know completely yet. But I have a feeling that we will not know for certain until it is too late.” The Lord of Imladris said quietly, his voice commanding and deep with a hint of fear. Worry flooded through Eletha’s body, her fingers trembling as she fiddled with them. She loved Middle-Earth. It was such a beautiful place and Eletha would rather die a painful death than see it under the rule of a great evil. She would take on the Dark Lord single-handedly if it would save Middle-Earth. She would not care if she died. Then she would die for a great cause.

_War will come._

Eletha looked at Galadriel who was staring right at her, the crystals embroidered onto her dress faintly sparkling, her eyes like bright blue gems. _Great. Another war that I do not want to happen._ Eletha thought. The next statement that Galadriel said to her made her heart freeze over like an iron fist.

_And you will be a part of it._

 

Elvish Translations

  * heruamin – my lord
  * mellon-nin – my friend
  * Mani naa ta? – What is it?
  * Amin hiraetha – I’m sorry



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Eletha chapter finished! Next week, we will be back in the Woodland Realm, hope to see you then! I also posted the fourth chapter in the excerpts story, Behind The Scenes, so go and check that out! :)


	12. Webs In The Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil and Calarel talk and the Guard encounter more giant arachnids in Mirkwood. Melda and Tauriel secretly train the Princess how to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting a day early because I just felt like it :P It’s a longer update this time, 7,500+ words :) Ever since writing Forbidden Love, I’ve definitely tried my best in writing battle scenes. It can be difficult but I really did do my best so please enjoy, my dear readers!

“ _Adar_? Can I come in?” The princess asked when she knocked on the large doors to the King’s chambers. She had not seen her father for a few days and she had missed him greatly. Calarel heard the shuffle of feet and the rustle of fabrics before the door opened and King Thranduil stood before her, dressed in regal red and silver robes and a gold circlet ornamented his head, his silken hair falling over his shoulders and down his back in pale blonde rivers. A faint smile spread across the King’s face when he saw his daughter.

“ _Vanimle sila tiri_ , Calarel. Come in, _iell-nin_.” He said, stepping to the side, allowing her to walk inside. The princess smiled at her father as she walked into his chambers, her forest green dress trailing out behind her by four inches. The sleeves were long and pointed, a soft floral pattern on the beautiful fabric. A silver circlet adorned with red autumn leaves encircled her head, her long chocolate brown hair loose apart from two braids that started at her temples and disappeared underneath her circlet. Every time Thranduil looked at his daughter, he saw Eletha. Calarel looked so much like her. She had the same kind yet fierce and protective personality. That part of Calarel had also made Thranduil proud of her. He then realised that she was very quiet, too quiet.

“Are you OK, sweetheart?” He asked. Calarel turned around, the end of her gown swishing around her feet.

“I have not seen you for three days, _Adar_. I think that question is for you, not me.” She said.

“I am fine, Calarel. What gives you the impression that I am not OK?” Thranduil inquired, his piercing blue eyes softening as he looked at his grownup daughter. The princess sighed and blinked at her father through tearful eyes. _Oh, no…Why is she crying? Have I done something wrong?_ Thranduil said in his head, pressing his lips together. Calarel fought the urge to cry, trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks.

“It is just…I have noticed that you and…Legolas have grown apart in recent decades. Each year, you grow further and further apart and it is upsets me every single day.”

Thranduil expected that a conversation like this one would happen one day. The distance between Legolas and Thranduil in terms of their father-son relationship was slowly becoming noticeable to many Elves in the palace. Calarel watched as her father’s expression fall, his eyes closing and his head lowering. His shoulders slouched, heaving downwards as he sighed with regret. The princess bore a great intellect for an elleth as young as her. She was smart and could easily read people’s thoughts from their facial expression and body language. Over the past eighty years, Calarel had observed that the relationship between her brother and her father had become very different and separate. As far as she knew, the only times that they saw each other was when Legolas went to give the King a report on his patrol. She remembered that Legolas and the King would have lengthy conversations way into the night. They would laugh together and sometimes drink a goblet of wine or two. On the way back to her chambers, Calarel would pass her father’s ones and hear them chuckling together. Now, when she went past her father’s quarters, all she heard was silence. It saddened her that they were not as close as they used to be. No smiles, no laughter, no hugs and no kisses. No familial affection that Calarel received all the time. At first, she decided that she would not meddle and wait for the two of them to sort it out themselves but she could not handle it anymore. She did not want to see her family break apart. It had already happened when the Queen was lost. Calarel did not want to have a broken family. Not now. Not ever. So she decided that she needed to do something. Or, at least _try_ to do something.

“What happened between the two of you? Once, you had a relationship that any father and son would have. But now it is cold and is as isolated as the distance from here to the Lonely Mountain.” Calarel whispered, sucking her lower lip to stop it from shaking, cocking her head to the side as tears swam in her emerald green eyes. Thranduil hated seeing his daughter cry. It was the last thing he wanted to see her do. He sighed and walked over to her, taking her delicate hands in his own. She looked up at him with a hopeful expression but the tears never disappeared from her eyes.

“Calarel…” Thranduil said, trailing off. He could not say anything. He wanted to shield her away from the coldness that had seeped into his relationship with his son. It was bad enough being separated from one child. He did not want to be from his other one.

“Your brother and I are fine. There is nothing to worry about.” He stated.

“That is not true!

Calarel had trouble believing the words that came out of the King’s mouth. She yanked her hands out of her father’s grip and turned around, walking to the edge of the bed, hugging her arms with her hands. Thranduil peered at her, not with anger but with surprise. He had not expected her to react the way she did. He stood there helplessly but not as a King. As a father. Calarel turned back around to face her father and Thranduil saw that her pale cheeks were stained with wet lines made by her tears.

“Why must you lie to me, _Adar_? And do not say it is to protect me! You are going to have to come up with a better reason than that.” Calarel raised her index finger at him, stopping him from saying his next sentence.

“Calarel, you do not have to worry about Legolas and I.” Thranduil said.

“Another lie! Do you think me dumb or deaf?!” The princess shouted, her face turning pink.

“Neither, darling.” Thranduil responded softly, his eyes wide at how his daughter was behaving. She was not just angry. She was furious, full of rage. Calarel paced up and down the chambers, her gown swishing about her as she moved, her hands making frantic gestures, the colour of her eyes even brighter because of her pink skin.

“Then stop lying to me! Lying is not going to protect me, _Adar_. Just tell me the truth. Please.” Calarel begged.

“Calarel, do you forget that I am the King? What has given you the impression that you are allowed to talk to me like that?” Thranduil asked, raising the tone of his voice, his eyes turning icy once again.

“You and your bloody attitude!” Calarel screamed.

“Calarel Thranduiliel! Lower your tone!”

That made the princess stop. He had never used her full name before and it shocked the King himself. Father and daughter stared at each other in complete silence. The only sound was their loud breathing, trying to calm down after shouting. Calarel walked to the large bed and sat on the end of it, her gown falling past her feet, her hands in her lap. She looked down at her fingers, her long hair flowing over her slim shoulders. _Valar, what have I done? I did not come here to argue with him. I came here to help him._ She said to herself. The princess closed her eyes and an image of her mother came into her mind. The dead Queen smiled at her sweetly, almost as if she was telling her that everything was going to be OK. Without even realising, Calarel spoke a phrase.

“ _Amin mela lle_ , _Naneth_.”

Thranduil’s lips parted when he heard what his daughter said. And from what he saw, she was just as surprised as he was. Her green eyes became ever wider and the colour in her cheeks faded. Calarel could feel the King’s eyes on her so she returned his gaze. He no longer looked angry. Instead he looked apologetic.

“I miss her, _Adar_.”

“I know, sweetheart. I do too.” Thranduil whispered, walking over to her. He sat down next to her, his eyes never leaving her face.

“ _Amin hiraetha_.” Calarel murmured.

“I know. I forgive you. I am sorry too.” Thranduil muttered back, his tone back to a soft loving fatherly one. He reached out and placed one of his ring-adorned hands on top of hers. He immediately felt her fingers reach for his, tightening, holding onto them as if her life depended on it. She raised her eyes to his, two green pools of liquid crystal staring back at him.

“Please tell me the truth, _Adar_. That is all I wish to know.”

“I do not want to burden you with it, darling. It has nothing to do with you.” Thranduil fought.

“It has everything to do with me. I am your daughter and you and Legolas are my family. Do you need another reason to tell me the truth?’ Calarel asked. The King knew that his daughter had a point. She was a part of his family and families got through things together and shared problems and troubles with each other. But Thranduil did not want to upset Calarel any further with the reason behind the distancing relationship between him and Legolas. Surely the truth would break her heart. Calarel had already had her heart broken when her mother perished. The princess was very young what it had happened but even though, she was a fully-grown mature elleth, she was still considered a child in Elven standards. She was approaching her 700th nameday soon and while to mortals that seemed like an age, it was nothing in a lifespan of an Elf. The princess had not experienced pure love like Thranduil had. Legolas was close to it and it still worried the King. The prince did not speak to him about it because he did not want to. Thranduil only wanted to help his son, save him from a loveless relationship, but Legolas did not see it that way. He thought that his father was denying him the chance to love fully and compassionately, just like the King had when he first laid eyes on his beloved Eletha.

Thranduil sighed as he felt his daughter’s fingers weave with his. He knew that he needed to let his thoughts out. It was unhealthy to bottle them up. It was a personal matter and Calarel was the only person that he wished to tell.

“You are right, my dear. You are my daughter and it is your right to know.” Thranduil said in defeat. He had held his thoughts close for all these years and finally, he could tell someone exactly how he was feeling. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I am sure that you have noticed that your brother has taken a shine to Tauriel.” He started. Calarel nodded, knowing that her answer did not need to be verbal.

“I confronted him about his feelings for her the night after I returned from Erebor. What I had wished to be a calm conversation with him turned into an argument. And we have never finished it. Not since that night.”

“What did you say to him? What made him quarrel with you?” Calarel asked. Thranduil sighed before speaking again.

“I believe that Tauriel does not…feel the same way for Legolas. His deep affection for her in unrequited. I only wish to save him from a loveless relationship. I want both of my children to be loved and to be loved back in return. But with Legolas…” The King trailed off, losing his train of thought. He looked away from his daughter and saw his reflection in the full-length mirror to his left.

“He argued with me, telling me to not dash his hopes of ever being with her. I tried to tell him that I was trying to help him. But he would not listen. It was when he mentioned your mother that I got angry.”

Thranduil lowered his gaze to his lap and did not utter another syllable. Calarel did not take her eyes off her father. She placed her other hand on top of his and held it tightly. She had no idea what he or Legolas was going through because she had never been in love. Like every elleth, she dreamed of the day that her one love would come into her life. _It will happen one day._ She thought. Calarel was stuck in the middle. She could see both points of view but did not know which one to agree with and which person to stand beside. Calarel loved it that Legolas desired the red-haired Captain but it worried her that she did not desire Legolas in the same way. Thranduil was trying to tell him that love is not all kisses and passion. It can also bring pain and heartache. And he did not want his son to go through what he did. _I have felt the pain of love. I do not want my son to._ He said to himself.

The King slowly let go of his daughter’s hand, sliding his fingers out of her reassuring hold. Calarel watched him stand up and walk to the mirror. She looked at his back, his long hair cascading down over his robes like silken rivers. He remained still and Calarel placed her left hand on the bed, her other hand resting in her lap.

Thranduil stared at himself in the mirror, a pair of piercing pale blue eyes looking back at him. _How did it come to this?_ He asked himself, closing his eyes. There was a time when his life was full of joy, love and laughter. His wife still lived and his heart faltered each and every time he looked at her. He missed the devoted look in her beautiful emerald green eyes. He missed the way she smiled, giggled and laughed. He missed the sound of her angelic voice, whispering such stunning phrases all the time. He missed the softness of her hair and the fragrance of her skin. He missed the pressure of her lips on his, pouring all her love for him in a single kiss. Thranduil winced when he felt a stinging pain on the left-hand side of his face. He knew what the stinging pain was from but he opened his eyes nonetheless and was met with his disgusting burnt face, his left eye the colour of milk white. The King raised his left hand and gently touched his damaged skin with his fingertips. Calarel saw her father flinch and she stood up, the ends of the pointed sleeves of her dress falling to her ankles. She walked over to him and placed her hand on his back. Thranduil did not turn around so the princess came and stood next to him, her hand still on his back. The healthy side of his face was the side that Calarel saw but she could see the fear in his good eye. She moved her hand off his back and placed it on his arm, making him turn to face her. Calarel was not afraid anymore of what he looked like. Instead, her heart broke. It seemed that over the initial grieving period, his burns had worsened because his soul was shattered. The emotional torture that he had gone through was reflected in his horrific injuries that he had sustained at Gundabad four centuries ago.

“I know what you are thinking.” Calarel announced.

“Do you really?” Thranduil asked, his good eyebrow rising above his crystalline blue eye.

“You think that if _Naneth_ was here, she would not love you anymore.”

Thranduil’s breath hitched in his throat when his daughter mentioned his wife. What she said was true. The King believed that Eletha would not love him anymore and would keep away from him. He knew that he looked very grotesque. It was not how an Elf should look. Especially a Sindarin King. Calarel spotted a tear threatening to fall down her father’s cheek and if it did, she would not wipe it away because a single tear was not something to be ashamed of. It showed that he was emotional. And he had every right to be, especially in his situation.

“Now you listen to me, _Adar_. I know that _Naneth_ would love you no matter what. It did not matter what you looked like. I may know next to nothing about love but I know when a person loves another unconditionally. And that is what _Naneth_ did. It was your personality that she felt in love with. She told me. She told me face-to-face that nothing would come in between her and you.” Calarel said as Thranduil stared down at her with a loving look in his eye. The princess’s eyes widened when she realised that his burns were fading, turning back into perfect pale skin.

“Your burns would mean nothing to _Naneth_. I know that. She would still love you. I still love you. You are my father and a burnt face does not change that. It will never change that.”

By Calarel’s last sentence, all of the King’s burns had gone, now replaced with his flawless pallor. A small smile tugged her lips up as her fingers tightened around her father’s arm. The chambers were quiet as father and daughter shared a tender moment. Then, Thranduil leaned down and enveloped the princess in a tight and sweet hug. Calarel returned his embrace, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. The King buried his nose in his daughter’s chocolate brown hair and he let that single tear fall.

“What would I do without you, Calarel?” He mumbled.

“Crash and burn.” The princess let out a teary chuckle and Thranduil smiled, tightening his arms around her. He never wanted to lose her. He never wanted to lose Legolas either. Without his children, he would be lost. He felt grateful to have them. Because if he did not have them, he would be dead.

 

**

 

“Do you see any?”

Tauriel’s sharp voice echoed around the dark forest, bouncing off the sick trees. It was Tauriel’s afternoon patrol and she had taken out a group of Guard soldiers with her. The fingers of her left hand gripped her bow as she padded along the forest floor. Her red hair was vibrant against the darkness of the forest and looked like it was on fire when she moved.

“None, Captain.” Tyaeron answered, bow in hand and his quiver strapped to his back. Tyaeron was experienced in many areas of combat including archery, sword fighting, knife-throwing and hand-to-hand. During patrols, he had his bow and his quiver stocked with arrows but in battles, he used his beautiful silver sword with its sharp blade. Now that Tauriel was Captain, he was second-in-command, due to Tauriel’s request. He was the Captain before her and she still had much to learn for him. And on top of that, she felt safer and more controlled with him around. Melda was not with the group this afternoon before she was helping her sister in the healing chambers for the day. Tyaeron had respected her wishes and asked Legolas to come with the group in her stead. This did not sit well with Tauriel or Legolas though. They were both a little uncomfortable in each other’s company. The memory of his conversation with his father made Legolas feel terrible and Tauriel did not make eye contact with the prince because she knew that she was the reason between the hostility between the King and Legolas. And she did not want to make the situation any worse than it already was. So she just focused on her duty as Captain of the Woodland Guard.

The Greenwood Forest was Greenwood no longer. Its atmosphere was not as sweet and beautiful as it once was. The smell of evil filled the air and the sunlight hardly ever peaked in, the trees blocking it out. The Elven paths were deserted and the forest was silent, not even the tweet of a bird. It brought tears to Tauriel’s eyes. This was her home and it was being destroyed by a dark dank evil that should have stayed dead. Over the past few decades, giant spiders had come into the forest and hatched dozens of their children so Greenwood (now referred to as Mirkwood) was infested with him. The King had already ordered high protection details on each village 24/7 to protect the Elves from the spiders. Each and every Elf was thankful for his help and dedication to keeping them and their beloved children safe from harm. Webs spun by the giant spiders were found all over the forest, stringing across branches from tree to tree. While it sometimes looked beautiful, the webs were far from beautiful. The Elves stayed away from the webs except for when they went to destroy nests of spiders which always turned out to be a difficult job, even for the most experienced and skilled soldiers.

There was a rustle and Tauriel’s pointed ears pricked up at the sound. She quickly cinched an arrow to her bow and signalled for the others to do the same. Legolas reached behind him and grabbed an arrow, placing it on his bow which was lowered down so he could bring it up to fire in less than a second. He watched Tauriel as she moved forward one step, her booted foot coming down leaves that littered the forest floor, a crunching sound echoed around the area. There was a high-pitched cry and at least a dozen giant arachnids surrounded the group of Elven soldiers. They were huge with disgusting grubby bodies and eight legs, scampering about the place. Many black eyes peered at the Elves before the spiders decided to attack.

“ _Sii'_!” Tauriel commanded and arrows flew in all directions, piercing the spiders’ bodies in different areas. The squeak of the giant arachnids when they were hit was so high-pitched that it was painful. The sound reverberated in Tauriel’s eyes but she continued to fire arrows in quick succession. One spider got too close and knocked her bow out of her hands. She managed to draw her twin daggers from the small of her back and fight off the creature with them, slicing and shredding. Her left dagger went across the spider’s eyes and it squealed. She did a spin, her hair flying out around her, cutting two of the spider’s legs off. Its large body scrambled to stand and it squealed, trying to get up. Tauriel let out a yell as she pushed her dagger up from under the spider’s throat, piercing it straight in the head. It was dead instantly and its lifeless body fell to the forest floor with a thud. It was only a couple of seconds before another spider came towards her. But Tauriel was quick. She launched into another attack, gliding along the forest floor with ferocity and elegance. Her twin daggers shone as they slashed the spider’s body. She did another slice across its head, did a spin and stabbed it in its mouth behind her. Tauriel was so pleased with her kills that she did not notice a third one coming from behind her. But this one she did not need nor get to fight off because someone fired an arrow at it, hitting the spider in one of its eyes. Tauriel felt the arrow whistle past her face and find its mark. She quickly brought death to the spider and once it was dead, she looked over her shoulder to see who had shot the arrow that had basically saved her life. _Oh, of course…_ She thought. Her gaze was met by the prince’s piercing blue eyes. He was standing about ten metres away from her, the nest of spiders all lying dead around him, the rest of the soldiers keeping their eyes out for any more of the evil creatures.

“Good job, everyone. We should retreat back to the palace now.” Tauriel ordered, sheathing her daggers. The Elves obeyed her and began to head back to the palace, Tyaeron bringing up the rear. Tauriel felt someone’s presence right beside her and she immediately knew that it was Legolas. She looked at him and he saw the fire in her hazel eyes. He did not say anything and simply held her bow out to her. Tauriel had almost forgotten that one of the spiders had disarmed her and she looked at him. Her expression spoke “Thank you” but those words never left her mouth. She gladly took her bow from him and walked in the direction of the Guard soldiers, her head lowered in embarrassment. Because of the distancing relationship between the King and the prince, her relationship with Legolas had also suffered and she did not like it any more than he did. She blinked away tears as she joined Tyaeron and the others, Legolas following them a couple of metres behind, his mind not on the spiders that they had just destroyed but the red-haired Captain that walked in front of him.

 

When they got back to the palace, Tauriel headed straight to the King’s chambers to give him her report. She knocked thrice on the large doors and they opened but it was not the King who appeared. It was the princess.

“Oh, hello, my princess.” Tauriel’s eyes widened and she bowed her head.

“ _'Quel andune_ , Tauriel. You have come to give His Grace your patrol report?” Calarel asked, a gentle smile on her fair face which looked so much like the Queen’s. Tauriel nodded and Calarel reached over to rest her hand on the Captain’s arm.

“Well, come in, he is on the lower level.” The princess said, letting Tauriel walk inside. The red-haired elleth had always marvelled how lavish the King’s chambers were. Expensive gold bed sheets, a large bed, a wardrobe full of clothes made from expensive fabrics that only royalty could afford.

“I am not going to disrupt him, am I?” Tauriel asked as she walked to the set of steps that went to down to the King’s private quarters.

“Not at all. He has been waiting for you.” Calarel answered, taking a seat in the chair behind the desk, a large book open in front of her. Her eyes went back to the words written on the faded yellow paper and Tauriel took a deep breath before walking down the steps. It was curved staircase that revealed the private chambers of the King when you turned left. Her booted feet were almost silent as she descended the stairs, the huge expanse of Greenwood palace searching out before her eyes. Waterfalls crashed in the distance, golden lamps hanging from the ceiling. A glittering blue pool reflected the lights of the palace, the water completely still. Smaller versions of the pale tree columns were positioned in the private quarters, a large space between each one. The area seemed deserted and Tauriel was worried that the King had gone somewhere else that the princess had no knowledge of but he appeared from behind one of the pale columns, a glass goblet of wine in his hands.

“ _’Quel andune_ , daughter of the forest.”

“ _’Quel andune_ , _aran-nin_. I have come to give you my report.”

“Go ahead, Captain.” The King nodded and took a sip of his wine. And so Tauriel told him about the destroying of the nest of spiders but she left out the bits of her being disarmed, Legolas killing a spider, saving her life in the process and him handing her bow back to her. _As if that would make things better._ She thought.

“How are the protection details?” Thranduil asked.

“Very tight. We have heard of no attacks on the villages. All the villagers send their love.” Tauriel responded.

“Have any more nests been spotted?”

“Not at the moment. I plan to dispatch more patrols over the next week further into the forest to eradicate as many nests as possible.”

“Good order, Tauriel. You are a wonderful Captain.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate your kind words.” Tauriel bowed her head, her hair gently falling over her shoulders like waterfalls made of fire. Thranduil took another sip of his wine, his eyes on the red-haired Captain. He could see why his son desired her. Tauriel was a beautiful elleth. Her eyes were hazel but glowed green in the sun. Her hair was a vibrant red, like a burnt copper. Thranduil could always spot her in a crowd. He would love to call her his daughter. He already did but the situation with his son complicated things. Things that were not supposed to be complicated. But they were. He took a step towards her, his silver robes gathering about his feet. Tauriel stood with her arms by her sides, her eyes on the King. She swallowed deeply, afraid that she was going to get a lecture, but his eyes told something different. They were not full of fury. They were soft, as if telling her that everything was alright.

“Tauriel, I want you to know something.”

She swallowed again as he took another step towards her, his ring-adorned fingers gripping his goblet tightly. Her heartbeat increased. Her body was flooded with nerves and a sickening feeling brew up in her stomach. She felt so out of place. So much lower than he was. Even though Tauriel actually was, Thranduil never treated her any different to the Sindar Elves in the palace. He cared for her not just for his own sake but for her own. And for Legolas’s. _If she came to harm, Legolas would not survive. I cannot do that to my son. Not my son._ He thought.

“Tauriel, I want you to know that it is not your fault.”

“What is not my fault?”

“The distance between my son and I. It is not your fault. You must not blame yourself and I know that you do hold yourself responsible. Please do not. It is between Legolas and I. So do not blame yourself. Do not do that to yourself, Tauriel.”

The Silvan Elf stared at the King in shock. She had not expected him to be so…kind to her. Especially with all that was going on his life and in his kingdom. Of everything he had been through, he still found the time to treat Tauriel the way she should be treated. Her lips parted as she tried to speak the right words.

“Your Grace, I…”

Thranduil raised his hand, waving it off, telling her that it did not matter.

“There is no need to speak. I just wanted you to know that it is not your fault. Focus on your Captain duties and forget about blaming yourself. It is not your fault that your heart does not respond in the same way.”

“And what about the prince’s heart?” Tauriel asked. She only realised what she had asked after she had asked it. Thranduil watched as her eyes flashed with fear and surprise.

“Oh, Valar! I apologise…I do not know why I asked that.” Tauriel gasped.

“I know why. Because you do love him.”

The Silvan’s eyes widened, the hazel turning into a deep green.

“Not like that. As a friend. A brother.” Thranduil clarified. _I do love him as a brother. He was there for me when I had nothing. Just like you were, my King._ Tauriel thought and she realised she was nodding at his statement.

“You are an elleth who has lost her parents and is different in the eyes of a certain ellon. You are an elleth who has captured the heart of a royal. Remind you of someone?” Thranduil asked, rising an eyebrow at her. It definitely reminded Tauriel of someone. _Eletha._ After losing her parents, Tauriel really did look at the Queen like a mother. She had treated her like a daughter and cared for her like she was one of her children. In short, Tauriel had loved the Queen because she was the Queen but also because she was one of the kindest ellith she had ever met. Fierce but kind. Thranduil smirked softly. He knew that Tauriel was thinking about Eletha. And he was thinking about Eletha too. He missed her every single hour of every single day of every single year. Although he did not show it, Thranduil cried in his sleep by his lonesome. His bed was cold. She was not there sleeping beside him and it made his heart weep an ocean. Eletha was the only one he loved that passionately. She was unique. There was only one Eletha. And there never would be another.

“Thank you for your report, Captain. You may leave. And do not blame yourself.” Thranduil whispered the last sentence, nodding his head. Tauriel stepped back and bowed her head, pressing her lips together. She looked at the King one more time before turning her heel and heading back towards the steps. She had just gone up two of them when she came face-to-face with the prince. Tauriel stopped in her tracks and gawked at the prince. He stared back at her, his eyes wide, the exact same shade as his father’s. Thranduil watched the interaction between his son and the Captain closely, keeping quiet. He recognised the look in Legolas’s eyes. It was the way Thranduil himself had looked at Eletha. Ever since that very first meeting over 5 centuries ago. _So long ago. She should still be here with me now._ But she was not. And the King of the Woodland Realm just had to accept that.

No words were exchanged between the Silvan elleth and the Sindar ellon. Tauriel felt her heartbeat increase even more. She could not handle it anymore. She knew that the King was watching. _I must leave now. I am sorry, Legolas._ She said in her mind and darted up the steps, her long hair bouncing against her back. Legolas watched her disappear around the corner, his heart faltering as he remembered the look in her eyes. He knew the look because it was the same look that he was giving her.

Apology.

“ _Ion-nin_.”

Legolas turned around to face his father. The King beckoned his son over with his index finger before tapping his goblet, the sound of his ring hitting the glass echoing around the cavernous palace. The prince walked forward, his body devoid of weapons but he was still dressed in his Guard clothes, his hair a perfect pale blonde.

“Is something wrong, Legolas?”

Legolas quickly shook his head. Perhaps he did it too quickly because the King found it very unconvincing. Thranduil cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, his ring still making contact with his glass goblet every couple of seconds. Legolas sighed. _I am a terrible liar._ He said to himself because it was true. His father was not stupid so he took a deep breath before answering the King’s question.

“Calarel knows.”

 

**

 

Two months later

 

The princess knew that her mother had been a very skilled fighter. Full of natural talent and elegance with her weapons. She had heard stories from her father and brother about her mother’s expertise in battle. Very details accounted of all the things that she had achieved in combat when she was alive. It had sparked a desire in the princess’s heart to do the same and follow in her mother’s footsteps and maybe even fight by her brother’s side one day.

Calarel stood in her chambers, standing in front of her wardrobe. She went through all the clothes that were stocked inside, passing all of her glorious gowns for all occasions. She smiled when she fished out a maroon-coloured tunic, brown leather leggings and matching boots that came up to the middle of her calves. She changed into the clothes that she had picked out and pulled the top-half of her hair back in a braid, leaving the rest of her locks loose. After she fastened the end of her braid with a silver clasp, her eyes went to the array of circlets that sat on the dressing table. She wore one every single day when she exited her chambers but on this day, she decided not to. _I am the princess today. I am a simple elleth wishing to learn how to defend herself._ She smiled to herself and left her chambers, looking like a regular elleth who lived in the palace.

It was early August and Winter was slowly drawing to a close. Autumn was on the horizon and the snow had begun to recede. Calarel made her way to the training grounds, passing Elves by on the pathways and in the halls. Her long legs carried her to her destination and it was when she reached the training grounds that the princess realised it was dusk and the area was not busy. There were only about half-a-dozen soldiers training and she spotted Melda and Tauriel standing by the archery station, giving orders and expressing rewarding compliments. Calarel simply stood at the entrance to the grounds and within a few seconds, the soldiers noticed her.

“The Princess is here!” One of them cried and all of them bowed their heads. Calarel did the same back to them and her gaze shifted to Melda and Tauriel who were staring at her with surprise. She walked in their direction and the other two ellith did the same; Tauriel ordered the soldiers to keep on training.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” Melda asked, her golden hair drawn back in thick twists, strands loose in front of her pointy ears.

“I have come to learn how to fight.” Calarel said.

“Why would you want to learn how to fight, my princess? You have protection from your guards around the clock. You have no need to fight.” Tauriel exclaimed, standing next to Melda.

“It is not what I need, Tauriel. It is what I _want_. I _want_ to learn how to defend myself. There may be a time when I have no guards with me. I have to be prepared.” Calarel stated, her eyes darting to and from the ellith standing in front of her.

“Does your father know you want to do this?” Melda questioned.

“No, of course not! He would go nuts.”

“Your brother?” Tauriel raised an eyebrow.

“He does not know either. He would hit the roof. He would kill me. He inherited his temper from our father.” The princess said, rolling her eyes. Tauriel and Melda smiled a little but they knew that this was dangerous. _I might lose my position if I agree to this._ Tauriel said in her head. _She is the princess. I have to obey her. She may not be the Queen but she still is a royal._ Melda thought. She shared a glance with the Captain and she knew that Tauriel was thinking the same thing as her.

“OK, princess, we will teach you how to fight. But…we will have to do it in secret. If you wish for your brother and father not to know, it is the only way.” Melda suggested. Calarel was happy with the golden-haired elleth’s suggestion and agreed to it.

“ _Diola lle_ , _melloneamin_.” The princess smiled.

Tauriel turned around and ordered for the soldiers to leave the training grounds. They did not hesitate and obeyed the Captain’s command, leaving in pairs and in singles. The sun had dipped down so that it just above the horizon, sending a gorgeous pastel orange glow in the sky, fluffy clouds floating high above. There was a gentle cold breeze that blew the ellith’s hair around their shoulders, chocolate brown, golden blonde and flaming red all shining in the dying sun.

“So, my princess, where do you want to start?” Tauriel asked. Calarel looked around the training grounds. Each station was tempting and she had trouble deciding on what to try first. Then she remembered something that her mother had told her so many years ago.

_When your adar and I agreed for your brother to train to be a member of the Guard, I went with him to his training session. He chose archery first. He wanted to follow in our footsteps, I suppose._

Calarel smiled, her teeth a perfect white. _I will do what my brother did._ She said to herself and looked at Tauriel.

“I think archery would be a good place to start.” She said.

“A good place to start indeed, princess.” Tauriel smiled.

“Oh, and I have one request, _melloneamin_.” Calarel whispered.

“Yes, princess?” Melda asked.

“In these private training sessions, I would love it if you called me by my name. We are friends and I practically look at you two like family. So, here in these training session, my title is Calarel, not princess.”

“Of course, Calarel.” Tauriel said and Melda nodded in agreement. They led the princess over to the archery station and her first training session began with the sun disappearing on the horizon.

 

Calarel was a natural at archery. It shocked both Melda and Tauriel how good she was. The princess had never picked up a bow in her life but she really knew how to use one. Many of her arrows had pierced the bullseye on the target and if not, they had hit the outer ring that surrounded the bullseye. Melda and Tauriel glanced at each other multiple times as the princess shot arrow after arrow after arrow. There were a few times when Tauriel had to correct Calarel’s posture, pressing her hand on her back to keep it straight. But other than that, the princess’s first training session was a complete success. The moon shone high in the sky by the end of the session and the ellith’s beautiful pale skin glowed in the moonlight.

“Well done, Calarel. You are a natural.” Tauriel said smiling. The princess lowered the bow and turned around to face the other two ellith.

“I cannot believe I just did that.” She smiled.

“You have a knack for archery, Calarel. Just like your mother.” Melda grinned, clapping her hands together, her violet eyes shining. A new wave of sadness swept across the princess’s face when Melda mentioned the Queen but she kept on smiling. The golden-haired elleth stepped in front of her and placed her hands on the princess’s upper arms.

“She would be extremely proud of you.”

“I know.” Calarel whispered. _But what will my father and brother think?_

Tauriel stepped forward, her hazel eyes turning green in the bright moonlight.

“I think we are done for tonight, Calarel. When would you like to train again?” The Captain asked.

“I do not know. What do you think?” The princess eyed Tauriel.

“Say once a week at dusk, the exact time we started today.” The Captain suggested. A smile brightened the princess’s face as she moved out of Melda’s grip and placed the bow she was holding at the station behind her.

“That sounds good. _Diola lle_ , _melloneamin_.” The princess thanked the two ellith who bowed their heads at her as a sign of royalty and respect. While Melda went to place the arrows back in the vats next to the archery station, Calarel placed her hand on Tauriel’s arm.

“I know what my brother feels for you.”

The Captain’s eyes shone with shock and she looked petrified. Tauriel knew that the princess would notice. _If the King noticed, so would the princess._ She thought. She replayed the King’s words in her head. The words he had said a couple of months ago.

_Tauriel, I want you to know that it is not your fault._

_You know it is your fault._ The inner voice in her head retorted.

_Do not blame yourself. Do not do that to yourself, Tauriel._

_You are the one to blame because you pushed Legolas away when he wanted you._ Her inner voice said.

_You do love him. As a friend. A brother._

_Now you know that your feelings may be a little deeper than that._ The inner voice spoke again.

_You are an elleth who has lost her parents and is different in the eyes of a certain ellon. An elleth who has captured the heart of a royal. Remind you of someone?_

_Be like Eletha. Love the royal. Love the prince. You know you want to._ Her inner voice said again. That was the last thing Tauriel heard before she came past to reality. The princess’s hand was still on her arm and her gaze was as gentle as a feather.

“I know that you do not…feel the same thing for him. I can see it. Valar, what do I know about love? But can I offer one piece of advice?” Calarel asked. Tauriel nodded. _Any advice would be very helpful, especially from another female._

“Do not push Legolas away. It will only make things worse. He already has a distant relationship with the King. Do not make him have one with you.” The princess whispered and let go of Tauriel’s arm before walking out of the training grounds, leaving Tauriel standing there, repeating Calarel’s words in her head.

_Do not make him have one with you._

Tauriel could see the truth in her words. Pushing Legolas would not make anything better. _I may not love him but I still care for him. Friends do not push each other away. I must remain friends with him. It is better than not talking to him._ Tauriel was so deep in her thoughts that she did not hear Melda saying her name. It was only when her hand came down on Tauriel’s shoulder did the Captain snap out of her mind.

“Tauriel? Are you alright?” Melda asked.

“I am fine, Melda. Come on, let’s retire.” The Captain said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. Melda’s hand fell away from her friend’s shoulder and Tauriel walked out of the training grounds, blinking away tears and sucking her lower lip. She knew what she had to do. And no matter how hard it was for her, she would still do it. Not for her sake. But for Legolas’s.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Adar – Father
  * Vanimle sila tiri – Your beauty shines bright
  * iell-nin – my daughter
  * Amin mela lle – I love you
  * Naneth – Mother
  * Amin hiraetha – I’m sorry
  * Sii'! – Now!
  * 'Quel andune – Good afternoon
  * aran-nin – my King
  * Ion-nin – My son
  * Diola lle – Thank you
  * melloneamin – my friends



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 done! :D There will be more battle scenes later on in the story (the ones that appear in The Hobbit) so I hope my battle/war writing abilities get better by the time I get to The Battle of the Five Armies :P I hope I don’t disappoint you guys!! Anyway, see you next week for Chapter 13 :)


	13. Visualisation And Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil imagines his Queen again and he has a dreadful dream. Legolas and Calarel take a walk through the palace halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of emotion in this one so get ready! Almost 7,000 words so read on and leave a comment if you have a minute to spare :)

It was just one night that he did it. Just one night. He wanted to do it because his body craved it and he felt like his heart had melted into wax, now sticking to the beautiful stone floor of his chambers. Two empty wine bottles made of glass sat on the floor, bumping against each other when they moved. The chambers were dimly lit, a pair of flaming torches sitting on the wall on either side of the large headboard of the bed. Shadows danced on the floor, unusual shapes moving to and fro like ballet performers. The chambers were quiet apart from the slosh of deep red liquid every now and then. And sitting on the floor was the great Elvenking of the Woodland Realm.

_I am not as great as I once was_. He scoffed in his head as he raised the third glass bottle of wine to his lips. Thranduil drank deep, swallowing and savouring the taste of alcohol on his tongue. He sighed as he placed the bottle back down on the floor, his long slender fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He rested his head and back against the end of his bed, his lavish silver robes pooling out around him. His legs were covered in grey leggings, his right one stretched out in front of him while the left one was curled underneath the right one. Thranduil was once again lost in his own sorrow. He put on a strong and kingly façade for his subjects but his children knew that he was still hurting. They did not blame him but they hated it when he turned to alcohol. Calarel had told him more than once that alcohol would not help because the pain would still be there the next day. His son’s words came flooding back into his mind. The anger they had held.

_No more alcohol, Adar! That is how you solve things. But it does not work. It will never work._

Thranduil stared at the ceiling as Legolas’s furious tone lingered, the sharp sound of his words ringing in the King’s ears. His piercing pale blue eyes followed the engraved vines and trees above him, twisting and turning like slippery snakes. His fingers tightened around the bottle as he lifted it from the floor and taking another swig. The alcohol went through his body, consuming his veins and making him drowsy. Wine ran down his chin when he placed the bottle back down on the stone floor. Thranduil wiped his chin with the back of his free hand but his lips were still wet from the wine, stained a deep red. He was not drunk yet but Thranduil had a feeling that he would be soon. He was not the same King he once was. He was not the same ellon he once was. Eletha had opened his heart and filled his busy life with laughter and light. She had changed him in a way that he never could have expected. She had made him a better King and a better person. But because she was gone now, he sometimes did not what to do or think. His two children were there for him but his wife had left a gaping hole in his life and heart that could never be filled. Unless she miraculously came back into his life. _No, that will never happen. She is gone forever._ The King said to himself, his free hand resting in his lap.

He sighed once more and got to his feet, taking the wine bottle with him. He heard the alcohol slosh against the glass when he moved. Thranduil looked down and saw that the bottle was still half full. _Not to worry. I have much more stored in the cellars._ He thought and walked over and out onto the balcony, his robes pushing the two empty bottles away, rolling across the floor before coming to a halt in front of the desk. The autumn breeze blew his hair back when he walked onto the balcony, silver-gold strands shining in the bright moonlight. The sound of the running river was relaxing, blue water frothing as it ran down the large waterfall to the King’s right. Thranduil closed his eyes and listened to the silence. It was just the river that made any sort of sound. The trees were still, the ones at the front flowering with golden leaves. The further into the forest you went, the darker and danker it was. The roots of the trees were strong at the water’s edge, planting the tree in the ground so that it would never move. The stars twinkled above in the night sky, bright against the deep deep blue. So deep that it appeared black. Thranduil was just above to have another sip of wine when a sound interrupted him. It was a sound that he had waited to hear for so long.

It was a chirp of a bird.

Many times had he heard the tweeting of birds. It was a memory of his childhood. His mother had taken him to the royal gardens many times when he was growing up. They would sit on the bench together and listen to the sounds of nature. Thranduil loved nature. That was why he was so scared for his forest. His beautiful home was being turned into something else. It was like a glimpse into the future if the Dark Lord should rise and rule over Middle-Earth. There would be no greenery. There would be no little animals. No trees with green and gold leaves. Nothing good at all. Just evil. Thranduil feared for his realm, for his people, for his children. Then, something happened that the King did not expect. A small bird landed on the stone railing to his left. It had a gold beak and gold feet but its little body was grey. It chirped again and moved closer to Thranduil, taking tentative steps to the ellon’s left hand which rested on the railing. Thranduil kept his eyes on it and a small smile crept across his wine-stained lips.

“Beautiful little thing, isn’t he?”

The King’s head snapped to the right and amazingly, the little bird did not fly away. His eyes grew sad but they still held a small glimmer when he looked at her.

“ _Melamin_ …” His voice trailed off, his heart shattering into a million pieces again. Eletha was standing next to him. She looked as real as he was. He could see the blood in her cheeks turn her pale skin pink. He noticed the pump of blood in her neck. She was made from flesh and blood, just like he was. But Thranduil knew that she was not real. She had perished four centuries ago in a ball of dragonflame. She would never be real. And she would never come back. Thranduil’s eyes wandered over her body which was clothed in not a dress this time. She was attired in her Guard clothes, leather and suede hugging her figure. The top-half of her hair was done up in a Silvan braided fashion with thick strands loose in front of her pointed ears, leaving the bottom-half to cascade down her back all the way down to just past her waist. It was a hairstyle that Thranduil had seen her many times when she had been alive. It showed off her attractive face, accentuating her cheekbones and eyes. She was looking out into the forest, the moonlight turning her skin into a glowing mother of pearl, her irises a bright emerald green.

“Why are you here?” The King asked, his voice as soft as a whisper. Eletha looked at him, her beautiful face threatened with a look of complete worry and sadness. Her eyes shone with tears and her bottom lip trembled. _She breaks my heart even when she is a hallucination._ The King thought as he titled his head, waiting for the brown-haired elleth to answer. But her reply did not come in words. Her gaze went down to the wine bottle that he still held in his right hand. She placed her fingers over his and Thranduil felt his heart jump at her contact. It felt so real. Like she was actually there with him. Her hand moved below his and she wrapped her fingers around the bottle. The Elvenqueen looked up at her husband with a look that told Thranduil everything he needed to know. He released his hold on the bottle so that it was Eletha who was holding it, the red liquid sloshing a little inside.

“ _This_ is why I am here.” She stated, holding the bottle up. Thranduil’s eyes darted from the wine bottle to his beloved wife. He closed his eyes and lowered his eyes in shame, his left hand still resting on the stone railing of his balcony.

“Look at me, Thranduil.”

The King loved it when she said his name. There was something about the way she said it that made him feel so happy. There was a time when she only called him “my King” or “Your Grace”. But that was before he had told her that he loved her. Thranduil raised his head and opened his eyes, meeting Eletha’s gaze. Her eyes were laced with both concern and anger.

“I do not like this. I knew you liked your alcohol but _this_ is out of control, Thranduil. This is not you.” The elleth said, her bottom lip trembling as tears clung to her eyelashes like tiny diamonds. She nodded her head at the two empty bottles that lay on the floor inside the chambers. Thranduil followed her gaze and pressed his lips together. Two bottles was nothing to him. He had drunk far more than that before. But he had done that when he was the prince, having fun with his friends when he was less than a thousand years old. The drinking he was doing now was out of grief and guilt. It was different. Eletha placed the wine bottle on the stone railing and looked out into the forest again. Luckily, it was just wide enough for the bottle not to fall off the edge.

“It is me now.” Thranduil said, his eyes still on the empty bottles inside.

“No, it is not.”

He looked back at her, his hair moving over his shoulders as he turned his head. Eletha made eye contact with him again and cocked her head to the side a little bit.

“This is not the ellon I fell for.”

Her words pierced the King’s heart. His lips parted in hurt and his eyes shone with apology and pain. The fingers of his left hand gripped the edge of the railing and his fingernails pressed into the stone so far that it was beginning to feel dire. Even though her words hurt him, he knew that she was telling the truth. She always told the truth. Thranduil tore his eyes away from his wife and looked out into his decaying forest, placing his other hand on the stone railing. The wind ruffled his hair but it did not tangle. It remained perfect and straight, shining silver in the moonlight. It came to Thranduil’s attention that the little grey bird was still standing on the railing right next to his left hand. It tweeted sweetly and he coaxed it to come closer by speaking Elvish, whispering it under his breath. The bird placed both of its feet on the King’s hand and he smiled as the bird’s tail gently stroked his skin. It tickled and it brought him joy. And for the first time in many weeks, Thranduil laughed.

“ _That_ is the ellon I fell for.”

Eletha’s statement made Thranduil look at her, the smile still on his face. She was smiling too and it made the King’s heart weep with happiness. What he would give to have her be real and be standing in front of him smiling. A smile that filled her whole face, her eyes shining. The tears returned and they barely clung to her eyelashes.

“I do not want you to do this, Thranduil. Abusing yourself in any way will do nothing and it will never help.” Eletha said, nodding at the wine bottle that sat on the railing. The tears finally fell, rolling down her cheeks, leaving shiny wet lines in their wake. Even when she cried she looked beautiful. Thranduil felt the bird hop over his large hand, tweeting and chirping, echoing out into the dark forest that was lit by the moon’s light. He stared at his wife regretfully. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes but they did not fall. He knew there was no shame in crying but he could not do it now. But then again, the only people he could cry in front of were his loved ones.

“I know.” Thranduil whispered.

“I do not think you do. Why do you drink so much, _melamin_?” Eletha asked as another tear rolled down her cheek. Thranduil’s gaze went back to the bird sitting on his hand. Sometimes, he could not look in the eye because either her face broke his heart or he felt guilty. There were times when it was both. This was one of those times.

“Guilt fills my heart, Eletha. I feel responsible for your…death. I could have prevented it.” The King whispered. He closed his eyes and a couple of tears fell down his perfect pale cheeks. He made no sound as he cried. He was silent. Then, Thranduil felt her fingers lace with his perfectly. All he wished was for it to be a real contact. He opened his eyes and blinked through his slightly-blurry vision. He looked at his wife, his mouth dropping in grief.

“There was not anything you could have done.” Eletha said.

“Yes, there was. I could have stopped you.”

“No, you could not have. It was my decision to go to war and even you could not stop me. My death has not been in vain. I gave my life for my people, for you, and for my children.”

The mention of their children made an image of Eletha throwing herself in front of her son only to be devoured by fire flash before Thranduil’s eyes. He gasped, placing his right hand over his heart.

“It stills hurts, Eletha. It hurts so much…” The King whimpered. He did not want to move his left hand because he did not want the little grey bird to fly away. He did not know when he would see one this close again. Eletha reached up and placed both of her hands on top of the one that sat over the King’s heart. Her thumbs ran over the pale skin of his hand as her fingers wrapped around his palms.

“I know it hurts, _aran-nin_. It hurts me too. But we will see each other again. I will be waiting for you. Just as I was when I was in my village, waiting for an ellon to sweep me off my feet.” Eletha whispered, her voice angelic and gorgeous. She let go of his right hand and placed her left hand on his face. Her touch felt so _real_. Like she was actually there with him. Thranduil could not help but close his eyes at the contact, sighing as her thumb glided over his cheek, wiping away tears. He moved his hand that sat over his heart out from underneath hers and put it on top of hers. He pressed his wife’s hand over his heart, resting his hand over hers, tightening his grip, afraid that she would disappear in the blink of an eye.

“I will never love another, _melamin_. My heart will wait to be reunited with yours.” Thranduil murmured, slowly opening his eyes. His wife stared up with wide green eyes that glittered like freshly-cut emeralds. His heart beated beneath her palm as he looked down at her lovingly, wishing that she was real, wishing that she was stilling ruling beside him as Queen. Her fingers were like feathers that stroked his skin, soft and gentle, like her touch had always been.

“Do not blame yourself, _melamin_. I wish for you to live and survive. Protect your home and your people. Make me proud.” The beloved Queen whispered, her green eyes shining with hope and sorrow. Thranduil nodded slowly and her hand fell away from his face. She gave him a soft smile which he returned.

“ _Namaarie_ , Thranduil.” Eletha said and then she was gone as quickly as she had appeared. The wine bottle still sat on the railing, looking innocent. Thranduil wanted nothing more than to knock it off the railing and watch it fall into the running river below. But he could not. He looked at the bird that was now gently pulling on the sleeve of his robe with its beak. Usually, he would shoo away anything that seeked to ruin his clothes but on this night, he did not care. The bird was his friend, not his enemy.

“What do you think I should do, _mellon-nin_?” Thranduil asked, knowing full well that he would not get an answer but he found it better than talking to the darkness that fell upon his chambers in the middle of the night. The bird tweeted in response and Thranduil smirked. It tugged on his sleeve one last time before flying off into the night, disappearing into the dark branches of the forest. The King watched it fly away. Such a tiny little thing living in a world of darkness. That was how Thranduil felt sometimes. Helpless and small. Not big and great like the people of Middle-Earth pictured him when they heard his name. The light from the moon made his piercing eyes glow even more, an icy-blue that once held an infinite amount of love. But that part of him was almost dead. It had slowly diminished over the years since that battle at Gundabad. His hair blew around his shoulders like a silver ocean, frequently billowing over his forehead but he did not care. He just closed his eyes and imagined a pair of emerald eyes, looking deep into his damaged soul.

_I wish for you to live and survive. Make me proud._

Her voice spoke those words to him. He would make her proud. He would do that. Then, he opened his eyes and realised something. _She does not just come to me on a whim._ Thranduil thought, his eyes wide with discovery. He grasped the fact that himself imagining Eletha was his subconscious, yearning for her and her words that were full of wisdom. _It is my mind telling me to stop drinking. To live because I have something to live for. Eletha is helping me survive from beyond the grave. She still wants to protect me._ Thranduil thought.

“Oh, Eletha…” He whispered, his voice echoing out into the dark. He grabbed the wine bottle in his right hand and retreated into his chambers. But Thranduil did not take another sip. Instead, he placed the cork on it and left it on his desk.

_No more._ The King said to himself as he looked at the glass bottle.

 

**

 

_It was snowing. The ground was covered with it. The large stone buildings had grown old, fading into colours of murky brown as tree branches wrapped around columns like snakes. Thranduil stood in the middle of a courtyard, swinging his swords around elegantly with ferocity as he cut down Orc after Orc after Orc. The creatures growled and groaned when they met their end, falling to the ground, ready to be buried by the falling snow. Thranduil moved quickly, cutting down the enemy so fast like a hot knife through butter. He knew where he was but it did not look the same. It was not the prosperous city that he had visited before where children were giggling and running around, cheekily climbing the beautiful stone statues that were positioned by archways and pathways. Dale was a battlefield in the cold Winter, flecks of snowing decorating Thranduil’s hair and shoulders. He saw many of his soldiers fighting, moving their bloodstained swords around, spinning in the snow. The city was burning, flames shooting out of buildings and houses. He heard women and children screaming. He saw Men trying to hold the Orcs back but failing to do so from too many stab wounds. As Thranduil did a perfect spin, slicing an Orc’s neck open, he heard the sharp cry of a female. It sounded familiar so he followed the sound, moving through the Orcs with fury, blood seeping into the snow. Thranduil came around the corner of an archway and he saw her about twenty metres away from him._

_Eletha… He cried in his head._

_Her feet were dangling a foot off the ground, a pale hand clasped hard around her throat. She was dressed in her green travelling tunics and her chocolate brown hair was draped with small snowflakes. Her eyes were wide and were popping out of their sockets as the hand’s grip grew tighter. Her face was turning purple, her hands around the pale hand’s wrist, trying to get free but she could not. Thranduil could see that she was struggling to breathe. She is dying…I must do something… Without even thinking, he called out her name. The person who held her throat looked over his shoulder and Thranduil felt his heart freeze over with rage and fear. He knew those malevolent eyes. That shade of skin a little darker than his own. That brown hair. Thranduil raised the sword in his right hand and moved forward a couple of steps._

_“Tarrol. Let her go.” He ordered._

_“I do not have to listen to you anymore, O Great Elvenking. You are not my King and I want to bring you pain.” The ellon answered, malice laced in his voice. Thranduil looked at his wife who was on the brink of death. Her eyes locked with his and they told him to leave. He shook his head, his eyes burning with tears as Eletha’s face turned even more purple._

_“Just let her go. Your quarrel is with me, not her.”_

_Tarrol looked at Eletha and raised his eyebrows at her._

_“What do you think, sweetie? Do you want to watch your lover die?”_

_“Do not call her “sweetie”.” Thranduil growled but Tarrol paid no attention. Eletha could not speak because Tarrol’s grip was so tight. Her hands were wrapped around his forearm and wrist, trying to yank his hand free. Thranduil watched his wife struggle to get free but Tarrol only smiled. He looked back at Thranduil with an evil smirk._

_“OK, Elf-King. You asked for it.” He said and released his hand from Eletha’s throat. She fell to the ground, coughing, trying to get her breath back. Her hand was around her throat, soothing it as she coughed violently. Thranduil took a step forward but Tarrol was quicker. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He dragged her to the end of the street, right to the edge of the city. Below lay nothing but the battle on the ground. It was about a kilometre-and-a-half drop from where they were standing. Thranduil rushed forward, his right sword raised but Tarrol drew his dagger and rested it against Eletha’s throat._

_“One wrong move and she dies.”_

_Thranduil did not move but kept his sword raised. He knew that his knuckles were turning white underneath his black leather gloves. Snow continued to fall softly, the sounds of battle cries echoing off the stone buildings. Dark clouds covered the sky but small rays of sunlight streamed through, illuminating the battle in front of Erebor. Eletha looked at Thranduil, her hands on Tarrol’s forearm. She looked at the King in terror. She was scared and Thranduil knew it._

_“Tarrol, just stop. Just stop it.” The King said._

_“You know nothing, Thranduil. All of you will burn.”_

_“Just stop it!”_

_“You do not get it, do you?! You are all going to die!” Tarrol screamed and Eletha felt the blade of his dagger press against the thin skin of her throat. She was so close to death and tears pricked her eyes but she did not let them fall._

_“Tarrol. Just let her go and we can talk. We can fix all this.” Thranduil commanded. He looked at Eletha who was getting more frightened by the second. Tarrol’s gaze darted between the two of them. He shook Eletha roughly and she gasped._

_“Go on, Elf-King. Tell your whore that she is going to be fine.”_

_“Do not call her that!” Thranduil screeched, a fire burning his piercing blue eyes._

_“Tell her!” Tarrol shouted, his face turning red. Thranduil looked back at his wife, his eyes turning soft. The dagger was still pressed against her throat and he saw small beads of red blood appear._

_“You are going to be fine, melamin. Trust me.”_

_Eletha nodded gently, her face full of panic as the blade pressed against her throat again._

_“There, you see? That was not so hard, now was it?” Tarrol asked._

_“Tarrol. Just stop. Let us talk about this. Just let her go.” Thranduil said._

_“You know, Thranduil…” Tarrol began, his face pensive, pretending to think about something. The King narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing. Then, a flash of glee flew across Tarrol’s face and a wicked smile spread across his face._

_“Very poor choice of words.” Tarrol cackled, turned around and threw Eletha off of the edge. Thranduil gasped as she disappeared and he heard her shrill scream as she fell. Full of rage, he threw himself at Tarrol but the ellon had disappeared. Thranduil looked around but there was no sight of him. He looked over the edge and saw his wife falling, her hands reaching out to him. But it was not the ground she was falling to. It was a dragon. The fierce creature opened its mouth and fire spewed out. Eletha disappeared, her body dissolving into nothing, consumed by dragonfire. She was gone. Gone forever._

Thranduil woke up screaming, his neck and face drenched in sweat. The gold bed sheets fell to his waist, the front of his long-sleeved silk nightshirt covered in sweat. He panted, gulping in some much needed air. He touched his forehead to find that the sweat was cold. Then suddenly, the King felt freezing. He got out of bed, his legs a little shaky and he grabbed a glass bottle of water that sat on top of his chest of drawers. He gulped it down eagerly. _No alcohol. Water is better._ He thought as the cleat liquid ran out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin. He drained the whole bottle and placed it back on top of his chest of drawers. Thranduil wiped the water off his chin and mouth with his hand, his hair lying in tangles around his broad shoulders.

The chambers were dark and moonlight streamed in from the balcony, the wind blowing the curtains around, casting shadows on the stone floor. The look of his chambers matched Thranduil’s mind at this very moment. Dark with just a hint of light. His heart was racing as images from his nightmare flashed before his eyes. It had been centuries since Thranduil had seen Tarrol. He had absolutely no idea where he was or what he was doing. _Probably plotting. He would not just disappear and give up on the revenge that he believes I deserve._ Thranduil thought, sitting down on the edge of his bed, running his hand over his face. He still remembered the excruciating pain of the poisoned wine, burning his throat as blood ran from his nostrils. He remembered Eletha’s screams, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him, asking him what was wrong. His hand went to his throat, the feeling of it scorching still haunting him. _But why would I dream about Tarrol killing Eletha? She is already dead. And why was I in Dale? Why was I not here in the Woodland Realm? What is the significance?_ Thranduil was not only scared. He was confused too. Just the thought of Tarrol murdering Eletha made his heart burn with anger. Her being killed by a dragon was bad enough. But from a person that he once trusted with his life? That was just too far, too heartbreaking for him to handle. Thranduil closed his eyes and an image of Tarrol holding Eletha tightly, both of them standing on the edge of Dale, a long drop below. A battle raged, many denizens fighting. _But for what?_ Thranduil thought.

_Just let her go._

_You know, Thranduil, very poor choice of words._

Thranduil watched her fall and disappear in dragonflame, reaching out to him. He gasped and his eyes snapped open. With a scream, he threw the empty bottle at the wall. On impact, it smashed and shards of glass scattered across the stone floor. He leaned over and his fingers raked through his hair, pulling and tugging at his scalp in frustration. Thranduil wanted to understand. He needed to. And he knew that one day, he would.

 

**

 

Legolas sat alone in his chambers. His mind still lingered on the patrol he went on two months ago. He had saved Tauriel from terrible injury, if not death, that day. _And she did not even say thank you._ He thought as his heart wept. He knew that he loved her. He had told his father many times that he did not know what he felt for the Captain with the bright red hair but he knew now. He loved her. He loved her even though she did not love him.

“I wish to see the prince.”

A gentle voice from the other side of the door brought Legolas out of his thoughts.

“Princess, I do not think-”

“He is my brother and I wish to see him. Let me in.”

The guard retorted and Legolas went to see what the commotion was about. He opened the door and saw his sister glaring at the guard. They both looked at the prince when he appeared.

“Hello, _gwanur_.” The princess smiled as the glare receded from her emerald green eyes

“My prince.” The guard bowed his head. Legolas looked from his sister to the guard, his eyes narrowed into perplexity.

“The princess wants to see you but I told her that you-” The guard began but Legolas cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Do not worry, Daglor, I am fine. Come in, _gwanun_.” The prince said, opening the door further. The princess shot a look at the guard before walking inside the chambers. Legolas shut the door behind her and looked at her surprisingly.

“What brings you here, Calarel?”

“Do I need a reason to see my brother?” The princess said, clasping her hands together in front of her. She looked beautiful as usual. Her dress was a dark blue and was made of pure silk. It shimmered every time she moved. The neckline was a V-shape and the sleeves were long and pointed, falling to her knees. The hem hid her feet but Legolas guessed that she was wearing boots of some kind. Half of her hair was up into a complex twisted style while the rest of her locks fell loose down her back, the last few inches curling naturally. A silver circlet adorned her head and her mother’s elk necklace hung around her neck, the pendant resting on her pale chest.

“I only wish to know why you came, _gwanun_.” Legolas responded.

“I only want to talk with you. I have not done so in a while.” Calarel said.

“Talk about what?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Calarel answered, folding her arms. The prince pressed his lips together and stared at his sister. It was true. He did know. His emotions had been an open book and anyone could read them on his face. It was no secret to Calarel about how her brother felt for a certain red-haired elleth. They had never talked about what a…situation they were in (or what situation Legolas was in). Since the princess had already confronted Tauriel about the prince’s feelings, it was time to confront her brother about them.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” She suggested.

“The ‘walk and talk’? Really, Calarel?” Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I would rather talk to you outside than in here. Let’s get some fresh air.” Calarel smiled softly and hooked her left arm through her brother’s right. Fortunately, he was dressed in a suitable dark green tunic and black leggings with black knee-high boots. His hair was already pulled back in is three braids, strands of pale blonde lying over his shoulders. Legolas sighed in defeat and opened the door with his free hand. The guard nodded at them as Legolas closed the door behind him and his sister. He nodded back at Daglor before walking off, his sister’s gown trailing out behind her about half-a-metre. The princess’s fingers wrapped themselves around Legolas’s upper arm, keeping him close.

“You know I know.” She said, looking at him. She was only two inches shorter than Legolas so she did not have to look up at him like she used to. They were almost eye-level.

“I know you know.” Legolas responded.

“Does she know exactly how you feel?”

“I have been pretty obvious about my feelings for her. She would be blind if she has not noticed.”

“I could see that she was trying to be distant from you. I knew it would not help the relationship between you two so I told her a couple of months ago to still be friends with you. You already have a distant relationship with _Adar_. Do not deny it. He told me when I confronted him about it.” Calarel said as her brother opened his mouth to retort. They turned the corner and began to walk slowly across a pathway with elegantly-carved archways above them.

“But, Calarel, the more time I spend with Tauriel, the more I…the more I…”

“Fall in love with her?” Calarel said with a raised eyebrow. Legolas looked at her with wide eyes and she thought that she was looking into the eyes of her father when he had looked at her mother. The prince felt his heart beat increase at the sound of the word “love”. For a moment, all he could hear was the rushing waterfalls that cascaded over the rocky walls; his sister’s voice sounded like it was thirty metres away. It was the squeeze of her fingers that brought him out of his thoughts and back into the present.

“Well…yes.” Legolas finally said.

“You love her?”

“Yes, little sister, I do. It is…I do not know what to say. It is something I cannot describe. I am just…” The prince trailed off. He did love Tauriel and it scared him. He had never been in love before and he would never love another the way he loved Tauriel because Elves only loved once. After Tauriel, there was no-one else. Just her. She was the one he would fight for, live for, survive for.

“It scares you because she does not love you back. Just not in the way you want her to.” Calarel whispered. They reached the end of the pathway and reached the start of another one, a large waterfall tumbling on their left. Water turned wispy, a refreshing feeling on their faces. The sparkle of the water reflected in Legolas’s eyes, making them glimmer like light blue crystals. His heart was feeling two different things at the same time. Love and rejection. He felt deep love for Tauriel but also felt rejection from her. But the prince would never admit loving Tauriel to her face. _Then all hope of being even her friend will be lost._ He thought. He loved her but he decided that he would not display his affections for. Not even in private and never in public. _Maybe if I wait, she will grow to love me. Maybe. Just maybe. She must know that I love her from the way I look at her but I will never utter the word “love” to her unless I know she feels the same way as I._ He said to himself. He then remembered that he was with his sister and she was waiting for him to speak.

“I am scared. And never tell _Adar_ I said that.” Legolas murmured. Calarel nodded at her brother and she promised him that she would never tell their father about their private conversation.

“She does love you, Legolas. Just not as a mate or as a lover. She loves you like a sister would a brother. Like how I love you.” The princess stated.

“I used to feel that brotherly love towards her but now…my heart has made its decision. I had no control over it. But then I realised that I did not want her to fall in love with someone else and have their children. I wanted her to have _my_ children and love _me_. But…love obviously does not work like that.” Legolas said.

“Oh, I wish I could help you, brother. Give you some words of wisdom.” Calarel cried as her hand tightened around his upper arm. The corners of Legolas’s mouth tugged up and he placed his left hand over his sister’s, rubbing it soothingly.

“I know. And for that, I am grateful. But I have a feeling that you cannot help me, Calarel. Only I can help myself. No-one can do anything. Not even _Adar_. And never tell him I said that either.”

That made the princess chuckle quietly and the prince smiled. They reached a small ledge and they sat on the edge of it, their legs suspending over the cavernous space below. Calarel kept her arm hooked through her brother’s, her fingers still resting on his upper arm. The fabric of his tunic was soft as a father but as strong as leather. The palace expanded out before their very eyes, going on and on and on before ending at the exit on the other side. Large lanterns filled with golden light hung from the ceiling. They were everywhere, their glow matching the sun’s rays that streamed through opening in the ceiling. It was a beautiful sight to behold. There were large waterfalls and small ones but all of them fell down to the dark space below, where the lowest level was water that joined the forest river. It was a question the prince asked that broke the silence.

“What do you think _Naneth_ would say if she was here?”

The princess looked at her brother, her eyes fraught with surprise. Legolas returned her gaze, waiting for his sister to respond. Frankly, Calarel did know what their mother would say. She had never been in a situation that Legolas was in now. Thranduil had fallen in love with her in the space of a month and Eletha had fallen in love with him in return. She did not reject him. But that was what Legolas was getting. Rejected.

“Uh, I do not know what _Naneth_ would say but if I had to guess, I think she would tell you to stay hopeful and let your heart decide, not your head.” Calarel said, a small smile brightening her pale face. Legolas felt fortunate to have a sister, or a sibling for that matter. Elven children were uncommon and did not come along very often. If Calarel had not been born, the prince would have had no-one to turn to for advice. He would be on his own. Valpantiel and Melda are not the ellith he would want to discuss his love life with nor would he talk about it with his friends. The only people he could tell were his family. His father was more like a King than a father to him now. His little sister was a person that Legolas knew he could always turn to and talk with. She would always be there for him and Legolas counted himself as being very lucky.

“ _Diola lle_ , Calarel. Thank you for always being there for me. Sometimes, I do not know where I would be without you, dear sister.” The prince said softly. He placed his left hand over the one that still sat on his arm and gave her a faint smile. Calarel rested her free hand on his forearm and smiled at him, her long hair falling over her lithe shoulders, a shade of gold shining in the beautiful chocolate colour.

“I will always be here for you, Legolas. Always. You know that.” She whispered. Legolas suddenly forgot that they had been talking about Tauriel and the way he felt about her. That was all gone for just a moment. It was just Legolas and his little sister that he wished to protect for all time. And in return, he would always be there for her. No matter what. And in that moment, the prince thought that he was looking at his mother. An elleth who had been snatched away in the arms of death too soon. He hoped death would not touch his sister for many millennia to come. He hoped that death would never come to her. Not ever.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Melamin – My love
  * aran-nin – my King
  * Namaarie – Farewell
  * mellon-nin – my friend
  * gwanur – brother
  * gwanun – sister
  * Adar – Father
  * Naneth – Mother
  * Diola lle – Thank you



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter, folks! I hope you enjoyed the brother/sister scene between Legolas and Calarel, I love them very much (maybe too much! :P) This update was inspired by ‘Wish You Were Here’ by Delta Goodrem, such a beautiful song!! See you for Chapter 14 in a week’s time :)


	14. In The Halls Of The Elvenking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group of thirteen Dwarves arrive in Greenwood Palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, we have finally entered The Desolation of Smaug timeline! It’s so much fun (and sometimes very difficult) to incorporate my storyline into the film’s plotline :) So please enjoy a 4,500+ word chapter! :) And could you please leave some comments? They are the only thing that keeps me writing!

A month later 

 

It was the middle of Autumn when some unusual and alarming news came to the ears of the Elvenking. Tyaeron had come and informed him that a band of Dwarves had been seen entering Mirkwood from the Elven Gate. Thranduil gave him a simple order to give to the Captain: capture the Dwarves and bring them to him so he could find out their purpose for coming into his realm. It had been many centuries since there had been Dwarves coming to the Elvenking. He usually travelled to their dwellings. Nonetheless, Tyaeron nodded and went to find Tauriel. He spotted her just as she was exiting the training grounds. No-one could miss the vibrant colour of her hair so she was quite easy to find.

“Captain!” He called. Tauriel turned around at the mention of her position.

“Yes, Tyaeron?”

“A band of Dwarves have been seen entering the forest. His Grace commands the Guard to capture them and bring them here to the palace.”

“Dwarves? _Here_ in the forest?” Tauriel gasped.

“Yes, Captain.” Tyaeron nodded.

“Very well, then. We shall assemble thirty members of the Guard and do the King’s bidding.” Tauriel ordered and she re-entered the training grounds with Tyaeron by her side.

 

Five minutes later, Tauriel marched out of the palace with thirty of the Guard which included Tyaeron, Melda and Legolas. The prince was most confused as to why Dwarves would wander into Mirkwood. The forest did not exactly scream safe like it used to. The trees blocked out the warm sunlight, darkening everything around the group of Elves. Legolas walked next to Tauriel but did not say a single word to each other. It was because of Calarel that the two of them were back to being friends. At least Tauriel was. But they talked to each other in the palace now and they did not avoid each other. The only reason they were not speaking now was because there were on a mission and talking was not part of it.

“How far did the Dwarves come in?” Melda asked.

“Tyaeron said they were crossing the Enchanted Stream when a guard spotted them. Which means they are not far.” Tauriel asked, the fingers of her left hand gripping her bow. The Elves treaded silently as they walked further into the forest, using their keen sense of sight and hearing to try and spot some Dwarves. It was another ten minutes before they finally heard something. It sounded like fighting. There were yells and cries as well as screeches and shrieks. The Elves knew those shrieks. They had heard them before. It only meant one thing. The Dwarves had found themselves in the company of giant arachnids.

“We destroy the spiders. It will be much easier to capture the Dwarves if there is no danger.” Tauriel commanded. She looked at Legolas who returned her gaze.

“You take half of us that way, my prince. Melda, you go with him. Tyaeron, you come with me. We will go the other way.”

“Captain.” Legolas said and nodded, beckoning one half of the Guard with him, Melda already standing next to him. He looked at Tauriel one last time before hurrying off into the forest, disappearing in a flash of pale blonde. _He will come back. He always does._ Tauriel thought as her eyes stayed on the place that he had stood.

“Captain?”

Tyaeron’s voice made her gently shake her head and looked at him.

“Right. Let’s go.” She said and jogged in the opposite direction, her long hair flying out behind her, the other Elves right on her heels. She heard the shrieks and yells again and ordered the Elves to separate to make it easier to find the Dwarves.

Meanwhile, Legolas had scaled a large tree with perfect agility and he could see the Dwarves standing in a line, their path blocked by one large spider. With his bow in his left hand, the prince ran across the tree branch and saw a thick thread from a spider dangling just at the edge of the branch. He made his move, launched himself from the tree branch and grabbed hold of the spider’s thread of web. The other Elves followed him, doing the same on other branches and landing on the ground. He spun down the thick strand of web, yelling. The prince landed on top of the large arachnid and quickly shot it with an arrow. He jumped off the dead spider and slid beneath another, plunging his second arrow into its belly, slicing it open as he slid along the ground. He stood up to his full height swiftly and aimed the arrow from his bow to the Dwarves in front of him. The Dwarf at the front stared up at the prince, holding a large beautiful sword tightly.

“Do not think I won’t kill you, Dwarf. It would be my pleasure.” Legolas stated with ice-cold eyes. The Dwarf returned Legolas’s glare as the Guard closed in on the group, arrows pointed at the Dwarves. Melda had her arrow pointed a Dwarf that had a ridiculous thing on his head that was supposed to be some kind of hat. But to the golden-haired elleth, it was a monstrosity.

A scream pierced the silence and a Dwarf with dark blonde hair turned around, his blue eyes wide with terror.

“Kili!” He cried.

Tauriel also heard the Dwarf scream. She saw him on the ground, a giant arachnid on top of him. Running along a tree branch, she jumped from the edge and hopped onto the back of a spider. She fired an arrow at another spider and leaped off the arachnid she was on. She yelled and did a forward roll, sinking her dagger into the head of the spider that she had just shot with her arrow. She turned around and sliced the spider she was just riding along the mouth. Spinning around, Tauriel drove her dagger into the spider behind her. She released the dagger from the dead arachnid and shot an arrow at a spider running towards the Dwarf. Another spider came up behind her and she fought it with her daggers, her vibrant red hair flying around her.

“Throw me a dagger! Quick!” The Dwarf yelled. _As if! Who does this Dwarf think he is?_ Tauriel said in her mind as she fought the giant spider. She blocked the spider’s mouth with her bow as she spoke.

“If you think I’m giving you a weapon, Dwarf…” She sliced the spider along the neck, resulting in a high-pitched scream from the creature.

“You’re mistaken!” Tauriel cried before turning around and throwing her dagger at the arachnid behind Kili. It landed in the spider’s head and it screeched as it fell to the ground. She let out a sigh and stared at the Dwarf. He had dark hair that fell below his shoulders and a short beard the same colour as his hair. His dark eyes were wide and he was covered in leaves and bits of web. Tauriel walked over to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and marched him to where his companions were. She heard Legolas give the Guard an order to search the Dwarves. The Elves began to extract weapons from the small denizens, murmuring in Elvish. Tauriel pushed the dark-haired Dwarf into the middle and she noticed that he was eyeing her in a strange way. Like he fancied her. Tauriel glared at him before stalking off. Legolas reached into the pocket of one of the Dwarves and found a small metal compartment. He opened it and saw that it contained two sketches of two other Dwarves.

“Hey! Give it back! That’s private!” The Dwarf said. Legolas examined the first picture and looked down at the red-haired Dwarf.

“Who is this? Your brother?”

“That is my wife!” The Dwarf glared at Legolas. The blonde ellon looked at the other picture which looked almost the same as the first.

“And what is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?” Legolas asked.

“That's my wee lad, Gimli!” The red-haired Dwarf looked up at the blonde elf. Legolas raised his eyebrow at the Dwarf and turned around, his eyes found Tauriel. He suddenly forgot everything that had happened between the two of them in the past and kept his mind focused on his father’s order.

“ _Gyrth in yngyl bain_?” He asked her. Tauriel walked up to the prince, her red hair bright against the dark colours of her garb.

“ _Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyrn yrn_.” She replied. Legolas eyed her curiously, wondering what she meant.

“ _Engain nar_.” Tauriel whispered, her eyes dark. It was true. More spiders had entered the forest recently but fortunately, there still had been no attacks on the villages. It was only a matter of time before there would though. And the Guard would be ready to fight them off. Ladon called Legolas’s name and the prince turned his back on the elleth he desired more than life. Ladon handed him the sword that the Dwarf at the front of the group was carrying and Legolas held it with great care.

“ _Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydth_.” He said, knowing that the Dwarves could not understand what he was saying. Legolas knew an Elvish blade when he saw one. They had a distinctive look of beauty and sharpness. Wondering a _Dwarf_ of all people was carrying such a weapon, he looked at down at the Dwarf with cold eyes.

“Where did you get this?” He asked.

“It was given to me.” The Dwarf answered. Legolas did not believe him and stared down at him with the same piercing eyes that his father had. Legolas pointed the tip of the sword at Thorin’s chin and glared at him.

“Not just a thief. But a liar as well. _Enwenno hain_!” He ordered. Melda, Tyaeron and the rest of the Guard pushed the Dwarves to get them to walk. The golden-haired elleth and the former Captain led the way to the palace, the other Elves marching on either side of the Dwarves to stop them if any of them decided to make a run for it. Tauriel and Legolas brought up the rear, walking side-by-side as if they had been friends for centuries. And indeed, they had been. Her shoulder brushed his and the prince felt shivers run down his spine.

“What do you think they are doing here?” Tauriel asked.

“That remains to be seen, _mellon-nin_. My father will find out the reason. The question that is bugging me is why is a Dwarf carrying this sword?” Legolas informed the Captain, raising it in front of him. The blade of a thing of beauty and it shone dimly even when there was no light. Tauriel found herself captivated by it. Swords were not her weapon of choice but she could not deny how stunning the sword was.

“He said it was given to him.” Tauriel said.

“He was lying. No Elf would give a Dwarf a sword. Definitely not one as legendary as this one.” Legolas responded, the dim shine of the blade reflecting in his crystalline blue eyes.

“What makes it so legendary?”

“This, Tauriel, is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. One of the most well-known swords in Arda. Its mate is Glamdring, The Foe Hammer. I now wonder where that one is and who has it.” The prince said. The Captain’s gaze darted from the beautiful sword to Legolas. She could still see that he was trying to hold back his feelings for her. It was blindingly obvious that he was fighting between his heart and his head.

“So, will your father question the Dwarves?” Tauriel asked, deciding to change the subject.

“Yes, he will. I am sure that he is just as intrigued as us as to why they entered this forest.” Legolas answered which successfully ended the conversation.

Within half-an-hour, they reached the palace. The Dwarves went inside first, scowls and glares on their faces. The Elves followed them, Tauriel at the end. She wondered what the King was going to do with the Dwarves. His hatred towards them was notorious but Tauriel hoped that he would not hurt them. It would not do the Dwarves or the Elves any good at all. When the band of Dwarves and the Guard were inside, Legolas ordered for the gate to be closed. Holding Orcrist in his right, he turned around to look at the path they had walked across. Being an Elf, Legolas sensed something. Something unusual. He could not put his finger on it. Some sort of magic that he did not know of. _It is probably nothing. Adar will be waiting._ The prince thought, shaking off his suspicions. He turned back around and walked into the palace, the two guards closing the gate behind him.

 

**

 

The King sat at his desk, writing a letter to Lord Celeborn. Just as he had written his signature at the bottom of the parchment, Maeklin burst into the room.

“Maeklin! How many times do I have to tell you? Knock before entering.” Thranduil sighed.

“I apologise, my lord. Your son and Captain Tauriel have returned from the forest.”

“Good. Did they dispose of the arachnids?” Thranduil asked.

“Yes, my lord.” Maeklin said.

“Did they find the Dwarves?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“What were they doing in my lands?”

“Apparently nothing. They were just making their way through the forest. They are on a journey to Erebor but they did not say why. The leader confessed.” Maeklin informed.

“Who is the leader?” Thranduil asked.

“Thorin Oakenshield, my lord.”

The Elvenking froze in his seat. Thorin Oakenshield. His grumpy old grandfather had refused to give him the jewels that he wanted. He had warned King Thror about what his greed would summon but the Dwarf king did not believe him one little bit. Thranduil remembered when the dragon Smaug attacked Erebor. For a moment, he had thought about helping the Dwarves but he decided that he did not want to risk the lives of his soldiers against the dragon’s wrath. He had seen a dragon’s wrath before (four to be exact) and he never wanted to see it again. That was the last time he had seen Thorin, about 60 years ago.

Thranduil lay down his quill and stood up.

“Tell Tauriel and my son to bring the Dwarves to the throne area.” He said confidently. Maeklin bowed his head and left the chambers, heading off to comply with the King’s order. Once the steward was gone, Thranduil donned his silver, orange and purple robe and his autumn pointed crown. Rolling his shoulders back, the King made his way to the throne area quickly. He sat down on his antlered throne, the robe draped across his arms, going around his back. He barely waited a minute when he saw his son, Tauriel and about fifteen other Elves of the Guard, including Tyaeron and Melda, escorting the Dwarves along the path. They were grimy and dirty, covered in cobwebs and sweat.

“So much for the benevolence of Thranduil, Lord of the Elves. Is this how you treat travellers to your lands?” A burly bald dwarf said, lifting up his chained wrists. _The Guard must have taken precautions_. Thranduil thought as he eyed the chains that were wrapped around the Dwarves’ wrists. Thranduil stared down at the dirty Dwarves. Oh, how much he despised them.

“Only the ones who annoy me.” Thranduil spat out gently, his voice like toned velvet. He recognised Thorin immediately. The only difference was that he looked completely filthy, threads of spun spider web streaked throughout his black hair. The heir of Durin, the bald Dwarf and an old white-haired Dwarf came up the stairs and stared up at the King. Legolas followed them and stood to their right.

“Is it a crime now? To be lost in a forest? To be hungry and thirsty?” The old Dwarf asked. Thranduil recognised the Dwarf’s voice. He had heard it the time he went to Erebor to get his wife’s necklace back. Except, the Dwarf had been much younger. Age had taken its toll on the white-haired Dwarf. Thranduil remembered his name. _Balin_. He had been in Erebor when King Thrór had ruled the Mountain. _Of course he would follow Thrór’s grandson._ The King thought. He glanced down at his son before speaking again.

“It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave. If you forget, you are using the road my people made.” The King said, his eyes cold. The path had been there for thousands of years. Thranduil remembered the many times he walked that path with his beloved Eletha. Surrounded by beautiful, blooming trees and shrubs, the singing of birds and the noises of rabbits and squirrels. All that was gone, overrun with spiders, cobwebs and a dark atmosphere. Thranduil’s world had gone from perfect to tragic in less than 500 years and the pain was still fresh for him. The King looked down at Thorin, a gentle smirk playing on his lips.

“It has been a long time since Thorin Oakenshield travelled so far East. For what purpose? Where does your journey end?” Thranduil asked, lounging back in his throne. Thorin raised his eyes to the Elvenking, glaring up at him. He did not answer the King’s question. And that frustrated the King.

“I wish to speak with you alone. Legolas, Tauriel, take the rest of the Dwarves to the dungeons.” Thranduil ordered.

There was instant scrambling and clamouring from the Dwarves but the Guard managed to grab all them and take them away to the dungeons. Thorin stood at the centre of the stoned area, the King directly above him.

“Much better. Now, shall we talk?” Thranduil said, his voice echoing around the halls.

 

Down in the dungeons, the Guard had managed to get the Dwarves into the cells despite the many insults. The Elves paid no attention to them. Legolas surveyed the area, making sure that each Dwarf was inside a cell. Tauriel escorted the Dwarf named Kili to his cell, pushing him as lightly as she could. She prayed that Legolas was not watching her. Kili actually went into his cell with no struggle at all which surprised the red-haired elleth. Just as she was about to close the door, The Dwarf spoke to her.

“Aren’t you going to search me?” He asked. She looked down at him, her eyes on his young face. He was quite attractive for a Dwarf. She could not deny it.

“I could have anything down my trousers.” Kili said innocently, his dark eyes sparkled with tease. _Is he flirting with me? Does he think that by doing that I will set him free? He definitely does not know Elves very well then._ The Captain said in her head.

“Or nothing.” Tauriel replied with raised eyebrows and shut the cell door, keeping her eyes to Kili’s for a mere moment before walking off. Legolas noticed the Dwarf smile as Tauriel walked up the stairs to the prince.

“ _I Nogoth… amman e tîr gin_ , Tauriel?” He asked her as she stopped in front of him. In truth, she did not know why Kili was staring at her in a way that a male would look at a female. _Maybe he finds me attractive. Maybe he is trying to trick me. Either way, I think you are jealous, my prince._ Tauriel thought. She could feel Legolas staring at her but it was not in the way that he usually did. The deep affection that he held for her was gone from his eyes. All she could see was disgust.

“ _Ú-dangada_?” She answered, looking at Legolas. She lowered her eyes and smiled faintly, remembering the Dwarf in the cell behind her.

“ _E orchal be Nogoth_.” She muttered and returned her eyes to Legolas. She pressed her lips together when she saw the look of loathing on his face. _Maybe all he needs is a taste of his own medicine. He is just jealous that I do not smile when I think about him the way I smiled when I thought about Kili._ Tauriel thought. She looked away from the prince and walked off.

“ _Pedithig_?” She asked.

“ _Orchal eb vui_ …” Legolas responded and watched Tauriel walk off. _How could she give a compliment to a Dwarf? A Dwarf of all creatures?_ He thought.

“… _mal uvanui en_.” He called out to Tauriel as she stalked down the stairs on the other side of the dungeons. Legolas looked at the Dwarf in the cell and glared at him, his lips pressed together into a frown. _Am I jealous? Or do I just hate Dwarves period? How I can be jealous of a Dwarf? A Dwarf?! No, I cannot be._ The prince thought. Then he remembered his sister. _She will probably want to know what has happened._ Legolas said in his mind and quickly left the dungeons, going off to find the princess.

Tauriel stopped in the middle of the stairs and rested her head against the rock. Her fingers constricted around her bow. Her mind was a mess. She had an ellon who wanted her for his own and a Dwarf that fancied her. _Why must I have the oddest love life known on Arda?_ Tauriel groaned in her head, closing her eyes and pressing her lips together. _Legolas should not be jealous. Am I responding to the Dwarf’s flirting? Well, I did smile at him. Does Legolas want to see that look on my face when I think about him. Oh, Valar! What am I going to do?_ Tauriel said in her head. And then she realised something. Something that she had not realised until now. She knew the Dwarf’s name but he did not know hers. _Will he ever know my name? In a way, I hope he does find out._ The Captain thought and a smile that mirrored Kili’s spread across her face.

 

**

 

Thorin Oakenshield did not utter a syllable. He did not even move. The Elvenking tapped the edge of the arm of his throne with the fingers of his left hand, his rings glittering in the light. He did not say anything either, his eyes on the dark-haired Dwarf. There was a time when he was on good terms with this Dwarf and other members of Durin’s Folk. It was the finding of the Arkenstone that had destroyed everything. It was that shimmering stone that damaged the relations between the Dwarves of Erebor and the Elves of Greenwood. Finally, the silence got too much for Thranduil. He rose from his throne, leaving his extravagant robe on the arm of the throne, dangling off the bottom. He placed his oaken staff against the throne and walked down the steps, past Thorin and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out into the gold-illuminated palace.

“Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon.” He said, looking at Thorin’s back, his voice echoing around the open palace. Even though Thorin had not revealed to his quest to anyone, Thranduil knew. After all, he was not stupid. Why else would the heir to Erebor travel to his home? Not just for a friendly visit. A dragon lived there. And Thorin wanted to get rid of it.

“I myself suspect a more prosaic motive.” Thranduil continued, walking back to Thorin. The Dwarf still did not say anything which confirmed to Thranduil that what he was saying was the truth.

“Attempted burglary or something of that ilk.” The King believed, bending his knee a little, looking down at Thorin.

“You have found a way in.” The King said gently. Thorin did not say anything and just stared at the Elvenking.

“You seek that which would bestow you the right to rule.” He said, stepping around Thorin and walked backwards, keeping his eyes on the Dwarf.

“The King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone.” The King stopped walking backwards, coming to a halt a metre or so in front of his throne. Thranduil saw Thorin’s eyes flicker to the ground at the mention of the Arkenstone.

“It is precious to you beyond measure.” He said as Thorin looked up at him, his eyes a dark brooding blue. There was something that Thranduil did not understand. Thorin must have witnessed what had happened to his grandfather. The sickness of the mind that was the work of the Arkenstone. _So why would he want it back? After what it had done to his kin?_ Thranduil asked in his head as he kept his eyes to Thorin. But he knew the wish to have an heirloom back for the King wanted something back too.

“I understand that it is precious to you.” Thranduil smiled at the Dwarf, knowing that he himself had the same want for a certain piece of jewellery.

“There are gems in the Mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight.” The King spoke tenderly as the Dwarf looked at him with wide eyes.

“I offer you my help.” Thranduil bowed his head, looking down at the Dwarf with pale blue eyes. Thorin smirked and lowered his eyes to the ground.

“I am listening.” He said, returning his gaze to the King.

“I will let you go…if you but return what is mine.” Thranduil said, titling his head to the side as an image of a necklace made of sparkling white and silver gems pierced his mind.

Thorin sighed and let his hands unfold, now hanging at his sides. He turned his back on Thranduil and walked to the top of the stairs.

“A favour for a favour.” The Dwarf recounted.

“You have my word. One King to another.” Thranduil assured the Dwarf. The King desperately wanted the White Jewels of Lasgalen. They belonged to his wife so they were his, by right. A favour was the best way to ensure that the white gems would be in his hands in the near future.

“I would not trust Thranduil, the Great King, to honour his word, should the end of all days be upon us!” Thorin shouted, his deep voice reverberating around the cavernous palace. He turned around and pointed at the King.

“You…lack all honour!” He accused, placing his fist against his chest. _No honour! He’s just as stupid as his grandfather._ Thranduil thought.

“I have seen how you treat your friends.” Thorin said, stepping up to the King. Thranduil’s lips parted in shock and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“We came to you once, starving! Homeless. Seeking your help. But you turned your back!” Thorin spat out, his eyes sullen.

“You turned away from the suffering of my people. And the inferno that destroyed us!”

Thranduil stared at the Dwarf with shocked eyes, his blood pounding through his body. Thorin screeched an insult in Dwarvish and Thranduil stepped right up to him, so close that they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Do not talk to me of dragonfire. I know its wrath and ruin.” Thranduil suddenly gasped and closed his eyes. He felt a stinging pain on the left-hand side of his face. He felt his skin beginning to erode, showing the sinews and muscles, his left eye turning pure white.

“I have faced the great serpents of the North!” Thranduil backed away and the wound faded as quickly as it appeared, his eyes on the Dwarf of Durin.

“I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon.” Thranduil said, standing tall above Thorin. The Dwarf looked up at the King, remembering the conversation Thror and Thranduil had decades ago.

“But he would not listen.” Thranduil pressed and turned his back on Thorin, walking up the throne steps.

“You are just like him.” The King said and with a wave of his hand, two Elven guards seized Thorin by the arms and the Dwarf glared up at the King.

“Stay here if you will and rot.” Thranduil spoke, standing before his throne. The guards dragged Thorin down the steps as the King watched on.

“A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an Elf. I’m patient. I can wait.” The Elvenking said, knowing that for however long it would take, he would get his dead wife’s necklace back. He had waited before. He would wait again.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Gyrth in yngyl bain? – Are the spiders dead?
  * Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyrn yrn – Yes, but more with come
  * Engain nar – They’re growing bolder
  * Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydth – This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin
  * Enwenno hain! – Take them!
  * mellon-nin – my friend
  * I Nogoth amman e tîr gin, Tauriel? – Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?
  * Ú-dangada? – Who can say?
  * E orchal be Nogoth – He’s quite tall for a Dwarf
  * Pedithig? – Do you not think?
  * Orchal eb vui mal uvanui en – Taller than some but no less ugly



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! If you wish to give me criticism, make sure it is constructive because that will help me write better. That will be much appreciated, thank you :)


	15. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel speaks with the King and finds herself intrigued with a certain Dwarf’s story. Lord Elrond and Eletha talk in Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 6,000 words this time and I’m getting really worried that all of you readers have just disappeared so please leave some comments! Please! :)

Flickering torches reflected in Thranduil’s eyes. He recalled the conversation he had had with Thorin a couple of hours ago. He said that he had no honour. _That damn Dwarf has the nerve to tell me that I have no honour. I do have honour but I show it to the people I trust, not to the people that I despise._ He had shown Thorin his wound. He had not shown his burns to anyone but his family and his most loyal subjects. It was a personal wound and he had been forced to show it to the Dwarf just to make a statement. Thranduil was angry that he had to justify himself to the Dwarf. He was far higher than Thorin yet the Dwarf spoke to him as if he was his equal. Thranduil touched his face, where his horrific burn was, feeling the soft skin. He remembered the day he fought at Gundabad, when he saw the dragons. The day he was maimed. The day he lost Eletha. Holding a half-empty goblet of wine, he thought of the moment when his wife perished in dragonflame, engulfing her body so fast that she did not have time to scream. Thranduil broke that day and he had remained broken. He had lost the love of his life, leaving him and his children on their own.

He heard movement at the top of the stairs and he stepped out from behind a small column in his open living quarters.

“I know you are there. Why do you linger in the shadows?” He asked, his eyes on the stairs. As expected, Tauriel appeared, her red hair shining.

“I was coming to report to you.” She said. She walked up to him, standing a few feet away from him, and bowed her head.

“I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past.” He spoke. Tauriel began to pace across the stone ground.

“We cleared the forest as ordered, my lord, but more spiders keep coming up from the South. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur. If we could kill them at their source…” Tauriel suggested. The King, however, would not allow it.

“That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task.” He said darkly.

“And when we drive them off? What then? Will they not spread to other lands?” Tauriel asked, her eyebrows raised. Thranduil narrowed his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Other lands are not my concern.” He responded simply. Tauriel stopped pacing and looked at her King in disbelief. She knew that he did not care about other people and other races but it always appalled her when he said it. This ellon, this King, had taken her in and looked at her like a daughter. Believed in her, was proud of her but he would not allow her to do what she wished. Tauriel, being so young for an Elf, wanted to venture forth into the world. Explore new civilisations and take the evil enemy head-on. Thranduil did not doubt her. He never had. It was the thought of losing Tauriel that frightened him. _She belongs here in the Woodland Realm. Not out there in the dangerous world of Arda._ He thought. He knew Tauriel was reckless and he was scared that one day, it would get her killed.

“The fortunes of the world will rise and fall but here, in this kingdom…” Thranduil raised his voice as he looked out to the palace. The flowing waterfalls and the hanging, golden lamps and the chambers occupied by lords and ladies.

“We will endure-” He broke off mid-sentence as he heard a noise at his left, where the stairs led down to another landing. He stared at the staircase but there was no-one there. Nothing. Tauriel wanted to go. There was nothing more to say to her King. As she turned to leave, she had barely walked a few steps when the King’s voice stopped her.

“Legolas said you fought well today.”

Tauriel stopped and turned to her side. A small smile came upon her pink lips. _Did he really?_ She thought. _Of course he did._ Her heart fell once again when she remembered the look on the prince’s face when he had tried to kiss her all those years ago. The night that she had pushed him away. Yet she did love him. As a friend. A brother-in-arms. Legolas was someone that she could always rely on in times of need but now their relationship was still strained. It did not help that the King knew everything. _But of course he knows everything. He is Legolas’s father, for Valar’s sake!_ Tauriel said to herself. She looked at the King and Thranduil noticed the smile on her face.

“He has grown very fond of you.” He said, eyeing her with softness. Tauriel turned her gaze away from the King and composed herself.

“I assure you, my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a Captain of the Guard.” She said, her eyes on the ground. Tauriel knew that it was a complete lie. And so did Thranduil.

“Perhaps he did once.” He spoke, walking past her with fluidity. His eyes on stayed on her as he went to fill his goblet up.

“Now, I am not so sure.” He finished. In truth, Thranduil was completely sure. He had known for a long time his son’s feelings for the red-haired elleth. Their argument still lingered in his mind and it had stung his heart. He reached out for the wine bottle and remembered what his wife had said.

_I do not like this. I knew you liked your alcohol but this is out of control, Thranduil. This is not you._

The King had not gotten drunk since that night and he had kept his alcohol consumption to a minimum. _My people will not love a drunken King. They would not respect him or obey him._ He said to himself.

Tauriel opened her mouth to speak but could not find the right words. She heard the cling of glass upon glass as the King filled his goblet up with red wine.

“I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf.” She breathed, her voice gentle and hopeful. As Thranduil placed the bottle of wine down, he thought of Tauriel’s words. He himself had fallen in love with a Silvan Elf and had married her. She was a Queen that was still beloved by the realm and had made his relationship with the Silvan Elves even closer. _I fell in love with a Silvan Elf. So shouldn’t my son be able to?_ He asked himself. Just as he had told Legolas, it was not Tauriel’s Silvan heritage that was the problem. It was that she did not love Legolas. And from what Thranduil had seen, she never would. He then remembered that Tauriel was still standing in his living quarters, waiting for a reply.

“Tauriel, in some circumstances, you are right. But it is not your Silvan heritage that is the issue. You know what the _real_ issue is.”

Tauriel looked at the ground and swallowed deeply. Even though the King had told her that it was not her fault. Not her fault that the prince and the King were far apart in their relationship. Not her fault that she could not control her heart. But no matter how many times she had repeated his words in her head, she still felt guilty. The King and his son were talking again but there were no laughs or smiles that Tauriel used to see the two exchange. Warm was not the world she would use to describe the King and the prince’s relationship. _Cold would be more apt._ She thought.

Thranduil sensed that she was upset and lowered the wine bottle back into its holder. He could not just leave her hanging so he spoke again.

“Still, he cares about you. You know that. Just do not give him hope where there is none.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. _I will try not to then._ Tauriel said to herself. She raised her green eyes to the small staircase that she had just walked down a couple of minutes previously. Her lips came together and before Thranduil could say another word, she fled the quarters quickly, walking up the stairs swiftly. She remembered the Dwarf she had saved in the forest and decided to pay him a visit in the dungeons. _He might be better company than the King this night._ Tauriel thought.

 

After the elleth had left, Thranduil turned around and took a sip of his wine. He recalled the time when Legolas had come to see his father to tell him about the spider attack.

“Tauriel fought well today, _Adar_.” He had said.

_Of course she did. She’s the Captain. And what’s more, she was with you, Legolas. She fought well because you were with her._ Thranduil thought. Whenever the Captain was around, Legolas’s eyes lit up. They did not shimmer as much as they used to but the King could see that his son was happy to be in Tauriel’s company. He could see the attraction Legolas had for her. It reminded him of how he had looked at Eletha. The longing looks, the softly spoken words, the affection. It was all there. Then, Thranduil remembered the Dwarves locked up in the dungeons.

“Well, well, well, what to do now?” He asked himself, draining the goblet of wine in one gulp.

 

**

 

The palace dungeons were different to mortal dungeons or Dwarven dungeons. They were beautiful (for dungeons) and seemed peaceful with a soft waterfall crashing close to the cells. A golden light illuminated what would be a very dark area in the palace. It was not the worse place to spend a night. When Tauriel entered the dungeons, she discovered that over half of the Dwarves were asleep. _If they are on a journey to the Lonely Mountain, they would be tired. Might as well get some sleep while they still can._ She said in her head. She told the guards that she would take the patrol for now and they nodded at her, heading off to occupy their time with other duties.

Tauriel checked all the cells and the Dwarves that were awake payed her no attention, apart from the leader. Thorin Oakenshield glared at her, his blue eyes cold. She quickly glanced at him before walking past his cell until she reached Kili’s one. Tauriel wished that she asked him his name instead of another Dwarf shouting it out. _It would be a nice way to start a conversation._ She stopped in front of his cell and noticed a stone in his hand. Instead of asking his name (which she would usually do), she started a conversation with a question.

“The stone in your hand. What is it?” She asked. The young Dwarf looked at her before answering.

“It is a talisman.”

Tauriel took a step forward and looked at him, wanting more clarification.

“A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a Dwarf reads the runes on this stone…they will be forever cursed!” He said forcefully, showing her the stone. Tauriel stepped back, her eyes wide. _Maybe this was not such a good idea._ She said in her mind. The Dwarf eyed her darkly and lowered the stone. Tauriel wished to move on so she turned away and took a few steps to her right before Kili’s voice hit her ears.

“Or not.” He said. Tauriel stopped and looked at the dark-haired Dwarf in the cell. He looked out of place, a Dwarf in an Elven dungeon.

“Depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing. It's just a token.” He smiled at her, giving a little chuckle. Tauriel stared at him through the thick bars and smiled softly. _He tricked me. What is he playing at? What does he want?_ She thought but his silly trick amused her. Tauriel had never been approached in this kind of way before. The Dwarf’s flirtation was nothing like an Elf’s but in a way, she liked it.

“A rune stone.” The Dwarf said, looking down at the runes that were carved into the beautiful dark stone, his fingers tracing the engraving.

“My mother gave me it to me so I'd remember my promise.” He whispered, looking back at Tauriel. The red-haired elleth stepped forward, eager to know more.

“What promise?”

“That I would come back to her.” He answered. Tauriel lowered her eyes to the ground, a small smile gracing her pink lips. Kili flipped the stone in the air and caught it as it landed.

“She worries. She thinks I'm reckless.” He said, smiling at Tauriel.

“Are you?” She asked, looking at him. From what Tauriel had witnessed, Kili was. He had tried to tackle a giant arachnid but himself and had failed miserably. _If I had not heard him, he probably would be dead now._ Tauriel thought. She was glad that she had saved his life. _It is better than taking it from him._

“Nah.” The young Dwarf answered, flipping the stone in the air again. This time, it flew through the bars of his cell and clattered across the ground. Tauriel was quick, her Elven reflexes coming into play. Her booted foot came down upon the stone gently, preventing it from falling off the edge. She leaned down and picked up the stone. It was small in her hand and felt cold. She held it up to the light, turning it over, getting a good look at the runes. Laughs from Elves above could be heard and Tauriel was not in the mood to join them.

“Sounds like quite a party you're having up there.” She heard the Dwarf say. Tauriel lowered her hand and turned around to face the Dwarf.

“It is _Mereth-en-Gilith_.” She said with a smile, her voice soft and beautiful. The golden light reflected in her hair, making it glow like burnt copper.

“The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood-Elves love best the light of the stars.” She spoke and stepped away from Kili’s cell, looking up at the golden ceiling. The Festival had been going for two days and would last for another week. The smell of wine and food floated down to the dungeons but Tauriel was not thirsty nor was she hungry. _Legolas is probably up there. And Melda, Tyaeron and Valpantiel. they are all up there having fun while I am down here talking to a Dwarf? What would they say?_ But Tauriel forgot about all of them. This Dwarf was keen to listen to her. She used to have this sort of rapport with the prince but that had long since disappeared. It was the matters of the heart that got in the way.

“I always thought it is a cold light.” The Dwarf said. Tauriel turned around to face him, her expression soft yet stern.

“Remote and far away.” The young Dwarf continued softly, a forlorn look in his dark eyes. She walked back over to his cell, her eyes friendly and her skin glowing like porcelain.

“It is memory, Kili. Precious and pure.” Her voice was incredibly smooth and beautiful. Kili stared up at her, mesmerised by her glowing hazel eyes. Tauriel smiled at him as she remembered the stone in her hand.

“Like your promise.” She said and held out her hand to him. Kili looked up at the elleth and gently took the stone from her. She could see that his eyes spoke “thank you.”

“You know my name.” He smiled.

“I heard one of your companions shout it in the forest.”

“Then I am at a disadvantage, my Lady. You know my name but I don’t know yours.”

Tauriel could not resist those dark eyes of his. So friendly and they sparkled. They were so different to Legolas’s which were a piercing pale blue.

“Tauriel.” She said.

“Tauriel. It is a beautiful name.” Kili said which made the elleth smile softly and she felt a faint blush creep across her fair cheeks. She turned away, her gaze on the flowing waterfall to her left, the sound of it cascading over the rocks echoing through the dungeons. Tauriel remembered when she first heard the crashing of the waterfalls when she first came into the palace by the King’s side. She had been a small elfling, grieving from the loss of her parents and marvelling at the beauty of Greenwood Palace. She still found it magnificent but she had never ventured out of the forest so she could not compare to any other civilisation. She wished to do that in the future, if the King would somehow let her. Then, she smiled. _I can finally converse with another species. Never have I spoken to a person that is not an Elf._ She could finally tell someone of what she dreamed. Of what she felt.

“I have walked there sometimes, Kili.” Tauriel said, looking at the Dwarf, her eyes wide and sparkling. Kili looked up at her with friendly dark eyes. She turned away from him again and stared up at the golden ceiling, remembering all the nights that she had walked out of the palace and into the forest when it had been green and lush, breathing in the fresh air of Greenwood. Before it became Mirkwood.

“Beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air.” Tauriel continued, remembering the twinkle of the bright stars in the night sky. There was so much of the world that she wanted to see. She wanted to scale mountains and skip through forests. She wanted to run on the banks of rivers and walk through cities of old.

Kili’s deep yet gentle voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“I saw a fire moon once.”

Tauriel turned around and walked back over to his cell as he spoke.

“It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge! Red and gold it was, filling the sky.” He said. Tauriel became interested and sat down on the steps beside Kili’s cell. She was now face-to-face with him and her eyes glistened, waiting for more.

“We were an escort for some merchants from Ered Luin. They were trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway South, keeping the mountain to our left. And then it appeared. This huge fire moon, lighting our path. I wish I could show you the caverns below, Tauriel.”

Tauriel smiled as she drank in his words. She could just imagine the glowing fire moon, bright and beautiful. She wished she could see the fire moon with her own eyes. It really did sound beautiful from the way that Kili described it. Unbeknown to the Elf and the Dwarf, Legolas watched them from above, his gaze cold and his heart thumped with an emotion that he had never felt. Jealousy.

 

**

 

Three days later

 

“The Dwarves have entered Mirkwood.”

The fork that Eletha held in her hand almost slipped out of her grasp. She was dining with Lord Elrond on the patio, the dark-haired ellon sitting opposite her. It was a warm Autumn evening and a cool breeze blowed the loose strands of Eletha’s hair around her shoulders. She stopped chewing and stared at Elrond with wide eyes.

“What?” The elleth gasped.

“Thranduil sent me a letter, my Lady. Thorin Oakenshield and his Company are currently residing in the palace dungeons.” Lord Elrond informed Eletha, his face full of concern as his eyes darkened. Eletha lowered her fork and went back to chewing her food, swallowing it once she had her breath back. She could only imagine what the King was thinking. _Obviously he is not thinking straight. Locking them up will not make them change their minds about their quest._ She thought. Eletha pushed her plate away. Suddenly, she had lost her appetite and could not eat anymore. Lord Elrond chewed a piece of steamed rabbit and looked at Eletha. Her elbows rested on the table and her hands were clasped together, placed in front of her mouth. Her gaze was lost, like she was looking into the distance when in reality, she was looking at the table that was laid with a variety of delicious food. She gulped, swallowing the lump in her throat. _I wonder what my children think of their father’s actions. Legolas might stand beside him but Calarel will fight back. She got that from me._ Eletha said in her head.

“ _Arwenamin_?”

Eletha looked at Lord Elrond to discover that his expression was still full of concern. His gaze had softened and he took a sip of wine, the sapphire on his Elven Ring glinting in the light from the lanterns that sat on the wall of the patio. Eletha lowered her forearms onto the table, her hands resting on her upper arms. Tonight, she was wearing a velvet gown the colour of burgundy, the sleeves ending at her wrists, the fabric skin-tight. Flat boots went up to her knees underneath her gown.

“ _Amin hiraetha_ , _heruamin_ Elrond. I am just a little…worried.”

“That is understandable, my Lady. You have every right to be. Your loved ones are there.”

“It is not that. I am worried about Thranduil and what he plans to do with them. You, my lord, tried to stop Thorin. I am sure Thranduil will try to as well.” Eletha said.

“I still think it is a dangerous move they are doing. I, like many others, do not deem the Dwarves’ quest as being wise.” Elrond declared.

“I think it is dangerous too but locking them up in dungeons is not going to do anyone any good. Not even the King.”

“You wish to counsel your husband from outside the walls of Mirkwood?” Elrond asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“He is not my husband anymore.” Eletha said, avoiding the Elven Lord’s gaze. Elrond stared at the Silvan elleth in disbelief.

“Eletha, he _is_ still your husband. He always will be. He still regards you as his wife, even though to him, you are dead. It is the same with my wife, Celebrían. She may have sailed many centuries ago but I still think of her as my wife. I always will. Even after death, Eletha, Thranduil still loves you.” Elrond explained, taking another gentle sip of wine. Eletha looked at his glass goblet which was half full with deep red wine. She then looked at her own goblet which she had only drunk from twice. There was a time when she could stomach much more wine but that time had passed. Like her heart, her appetite for alcohol had shattered. Then, a thought entered her head like an epiphany. The thought frightened even more than she already was. Elrond saw an expression of alarm flicker in her emerald eyes.

“ _Amin dele ten' ho_.” Eletha whispered.

“Why?” Elrond asked, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

“I am sure you know that the Elvenking is very fond of wine.” The brown-haired elleth said, her gaze now locked to Lord Elrond.

“Yes, I know that.”

“Well, do you not see?” Eletha pressed.

“See what?”

“Thranduil! He likes his wine, right? He probably feels guilty about my…death. He must have drunk huge amounts of wine ever since I…perished. What if he has tortured himself? What if he still is? Oh, no…” Eletha whimpered. Tears sprung in her beautiful eyes as she buried her head in her arms and sobbed. Elrond’s eyes widened in shock and he rose from his extravagant chair.

“Lindir!”

The ellon ran up the stairs, his navy blue cloak curling around his feet.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Summon my daughter. She is needed here.” Elrond ordered. Lindir glanced at the crying Eletha and bowed his head. He left the chambers swiftly, knowing why Lord Elrond wanted his daughter to come.

The Lord of Rivendell walked around the edge of the table and placed his right hand on Eletha’s back, rubbing it soothingly.

“Sssh, now, now, my Lady. Do not blame yourself. You have claimed responsibility for too many things that have happened in Thranduil’s life. It is time for you to stop doing that.”

“But…I cannot.” Eletha mumbled, her voice cracked and teary. Elrond took a seat beside her and placed his hand on her velvet-clothed forearm.

“Why not?”

The elleth raised her head and sat up, sniffling, her pale cheeks stained with tear streaks.

“Because…because…all of this happened because I am too afraid to return home. If I was there now, he would not be abusing himself.”

“Listen to me, my Lady. Thranduil is a mature ellon. He was born and bred a strong person and a strong King. He knows how to look after himself.” Elrond reassured her.

“But us Eldar cannot handle this sort of grief, Elrond. I feel terrible. His heart is broken because he lost his beloved and he has no clue that she, that _I_ , still live. I feel so…so…guilty.” Eletha cried as more tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Then let me help you, Eletha. Let me help you.” Elrond said, his fingers wrapping around her forearm gently as a sign of consolation. She looked at him gently and cocked her head to the side, her face saddened with sorrow.

“You cannot help me, my lord. No-one can help me. Not this time.”

Elrond sighed. Eletha looked away from him, her eyes lowering to the table. She sniffled and breathed deep, trying to calm herself down. Elrond heard footsteps and the rustle of fabric on stone so he tore his gaze away from Eletha.

“ _Iell-nin_.”

Lady Arwen of Rivendell stood on the edge of the patio. Her dark hair was loose, falling to her waist in soft waves. She was wearing a beautiful silver gown that flattered her figure and it had a train that was about half-a-metre long. Her arms hung by her sides, the pointed sleeves of her dress falling to the floor. Her sapphire eyes were big with concern and confusion as they darted from her friend from Greenwood and her father.

“What is going on here, _Adar_?”

Eletha looked to her right and her eyes found Arwen who had a look of shock on her fair face. In her weeping, she had not heard Elrond sent for her. Arwen did not wait for her father to answer and rushed to Eletha’s side, wrapping her left arm around her shoulders.

“What is wrong, _mellon-nin_? Why are you crying?” The elleth with black hair asked worriedly. Eletha took a deep breath before answering.

“I am scared for my…for the King’s life.”

“May I ask why?” Arwen questioned, her sapphire eyes speaking solace.

“He…I know he likes to drink. He likes his wine. And I fear that he has used it as a tool to blame himself for what…happened to me. He might have gotten drunk many many nights and had woken up and done it again.” Eletha whimpered.

“You know we Eldar cannot die of alcohol consumption, Eletha.” Arwen whispered.

“I know. But I know there is still huge grief and guilt in his heart. He could die of a broken heart. And then my children would have no parents. Not a mother and not a father. It…breaks my own heart to think of it.”

“Then do not think of it, _Arwenamin_.” Elrond said.

“I cannot. It is always there in my mind and I cannot push it away. I just cannot.” Eletha sobbed and more tears welled up in her eyes. Arwen rubbed the elleth’s arm with her hand soothingly and looked at her father. Elrond returned his daughter’s gaze, his lips pressed together in a thin line. They were both worried for the elleth that sat between them. Elrond knew that Thranduil was strong. He had lived through many terrible things including the Battle of Dagorlad, the loss of his father and mother and the poisoning in his wine. He believed that he had lost the love of his life and his forest was now sick with a great evil. It seemed to Lord Elrond that the only thing keeping the Elvenking going was his two children. _I do not believe that he would just leave him._ He thought, hoping it was the truth.

“Eletha, Thranduil will not die.” Elrond said confidently. The elleth sniffled and looked at him, her green eyes shining. Arwen also looked at Elrond, her expression sad yet hopeful.

“What do you mean?” Eletha asked.

“I have known him for a very long time. He has an inner strength that I have never seen before. He is strong and resilient. He has survived through a lot. Thranduil may believe that you are gone but he has his two children. A prince and a princess that you gifted him. You told me yourself that he would not leave him. And I believe it.”

The two ellith looked at Lord Elrond in appreciation and Eletha felt tears of comfort run down her cheeks. He tightened his fingers around her forearm and squeezed it in reassurance.

“Thranduil will live because he has his children. They are your flesh and blood and he will cling onto them until he leaves this world.” Elrond said softly. The corners of Eletha’s mouth tugged up in the tiniest of smiles but Elrond noticed it. Arwen constricted her arm around Eletha’s shoulders, running her hand up and down the elleth’s arm.

“I am sure that your children reassure the Elvenking that he will survive. They seem just as feisty as him from what you have told me.” She whispered. Eletha missed her children greatly. They were the gems of her life. She lived for them. She fought at Gundabad for them. She wondered what they were doing now. _Are they taking care of their father? Are they living a good life? Do they miss me? Do they still mourn for me?_ Her little greenleaf and her little flower. Prince Legolas and Princess Calarel. The beautiful heirs to the throne of Greenwood. Eletha wiped her tears away, her cheeks warm and sticky from crying.

“I miss them so much.” She murmured. Arwen glanced at her father who returned her gaze. He knew what she was thinking but he did not know if Eletha would agree to it. He cocked his head to the side as a way to perhaps leave it for now but Arwen did not listen. She removed her arm from Eletha’s shoulders and cleared her throat.

“Then why don’t you go and see them?”

Eletha stared at Arwen with shocked eyes. She was completely alarmed by the elleth’s suggestion. _Go and see them? How? If I see them, the King will see me! I cannot go back. What if Tarrol accosts me on the road? What if he is still out there, waiting for the opportunity to strike?_ As these questions and many more swirled around in Eletha’s head like an out of control tsunami, going round and round and round, never finding an answer to any question. Her lips parted as her eyes darted from Arwen to Lord Elrond and back and forth.

“But…I cannot go back. They cannot see me.” She gasped.

“Why not?” Arwen asked.

“I just cannot. I will not risk my children’s lives. Nor will I risk Thranduil’s.”

“Eletha, how can you know that Tarrol is still there in the forest? Do you really think he will kill you?” Elrond said, his eyes dark.

“Because there is no other place for him to go. And it is not me I am worried about. It is my family, the people that I love and care about. One move and he will strike. I do not want to be the reason behind the death of my children and the King.” Eletha shook her head, her hair pouring over her shoulders, her hands clamped against her forehead in frustration and concern. She felt a hand on her back and she knew that it was Arwen’s.

“Eletha, you miss your children and they miss you.” The elleth pushed. But Eletha shook her head again, taking her hand off of her forehead.

“No, I cannot. If I see them, they will tell their father. I told myself that I will never see him again and he will never know that I still live. I will not break my own promise.”

Arwen looked at her father for help but Elrond faintly shook his head. Arwen glared at him, her eyes full of blue fire. He knew that even though his daughter was a vision of pure fragile beauty, there was a ferocity in her. A deep female wrath that he would never want to get on the bad side of. He sighed in defeat and removed his hand off Eletha’s arm.

“ _Arwenamin_ , just this one time, see them. You may never get a chance to ever again. Would you not want to look into their eyes one last time and tell them that you love them? If I was in your position and I had that chance, I would take it.” Elrond stated. Eletha sighed and looked at the table. She did want to see them, look into their eyes and tell them that she loved them more than anything. _Calarel would be fully mature now. I wonder what she looks like._ Eletha thought. _Does she look like me? Does she remind Thranduil of me?_ It then came to her attention that Elrond had not finished speaking.

“A great evil is stirring, Eletha. A war is coming. A war that the Woodland Realm is certainly going to be a part of. Before it comes, see your children.”

Eletha looked at Arwen who nodded, her pale skin glowing like a pearl in the moonlight. She then turned her gaze to the Lord of Imladris who looked at her firmly. _A war is coming?_ Then she remembered what Lady Galadriel had said to her in her mind when the Dwarves had left.

_War will come._ _And you will be a part of it._

_Will I? Had she seen me fighting?_ Her body froze with fright. She thought of her children in the middle of a battle, fighting to the death. _No! I do not want them to die. Not when they are so young._ Eletha blinked at Lord Elrond through tearful eyes. He could see in her face that she had made her decision. He nodded at her and spoke three words that he had kept to himself for this very moment.

“It is time.”

 

Elvish Translations

  * Arwenamin? – My Lady?
  * Amin hiraetha – I’m sorry
  * heruamin – my lord
  * Amin dele ten' ho – I am worried about him
  * Iell-nin – My daughter
  * Adar – Father
  * mellon-nin – my friend



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer A/N: OK, I did think the love story between Tauriel and Kili, although quite sweet and adorable, felt very rushed. You would need more than one night to form deep affections for a person. In the book, the Dwarves are in the dungeons for two weeks (I think) but for the purposes of the story, I will shorten it to just one week. At least it’s better than one day! :P This chapter was inspired by ‘The Woodland Realm’ and ‘Feast of Starlight’ by Howard Shore :) I will be using the soundtracks of The Hobbit for inspiration because I am such a geek and a nerd :P


	16. A River Fight And An Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves escape from the dungeons and a battle emerges on the banks of the river between the Orcs of Dol Goldur and the Elves of Mirkwood. The King, Legolas and Tauriel question an Orc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much longer chapter this time, almost 11,500 words :D So please enjoy some wonderful, bad-ass, Elf-kicking action!

Four days later

 

The Dwarves had been in the dungeons for a week and Thranduil still had no idea what to do with them. He did not want to free them because he feared that they would awake the dragon that slept beneath the slopes of gold and jewels. And he also knew that he could not keep them locked up forever. The King had held two council meetings over that week and both of them had ended with him walking out of the chamber because all of his subjects had broken out into fierce arguments that he did not want to be a part of. _If only Eletha was here. She gave me some very helpful advice when she was with me._ Thranduil thought.

He now stood on the balcony, his hands empty of a goblet on this fine morning. He breathed in the gentle air and let himself go into his thoughts, forgetting about the world and all the dangers that lurked within it. Three loud knocks interrupted his peaceful stature and he heard Maeklin calling out the words “Your Grace.” Thranduil walked into his chambers, the end of his gold robe trailing out behind him.

“What is it, Maeklin?” He asked.

“Your son wishes to speak with you.”

_Legolas._ His son’s name entered his mind. The prince had not come to see his father other than to give his patrol reports for a very long time. It had been too long so Thranduil was surprised that his son actually wanted to speak to him. _It must be important. Maybe something is troubling him._ The King thought. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, pleased that Legolas was on the other side of the door, wanting to see him because he needed to.

“Send him in, Maeklin.” Thranduil said. The doors opened at the King’s command and the blonde-haired prince entered, dressed in his green Guard uniform. His expression told the King nothing about the reason why he had come. The doors closed behind Legolas and then, it was silent. Father and son looked at each other. No words were uttered between the two of them. Thranduil pressed his lips together and walked over to his desk. He leaned against it and folded his arms, the long sleeves of his robe falling to his ankles.

“ _’Quel amrun_ , Legolas.”

“’Quel amrun, _aran-nin_.” The prince said.

“Step forward, Legolas, and tell me why you are here.” The King ordered, beckoning his son forward with a wave of his hand. The prince clasped his hands behind his back and walked forward, stepping closer to his father. Thranduil could see in Legolas’s eyes that something was agitating him. That shimmer in that his bright irises had once held had almost gone. His eyes were beginning to look a lot more like his father’s. Thranduil could also see that his son was nervous to speak. Like he was scared to tell his father what was wrong. He looked at him with tender eyes and folded his arms again.

“You can tell me anything, Legolas. Speak.” Thranduil spoke. It was neither a command nor an order. It was not a King talking to a subject. It was a father talking to a son. Legolas took a deep breath before finally speaking.

“I have noticed, my King, that over the week that the Dwarves have been down in the dungeons, Tauriel has gone down there and spoken to one of them.”

It was the last thing that Thranduil had expected to come out of his son’s mouth. _Why would she want to speak to a Dwarf? Our enemies?_ It confused Thranduil that Tauriel was speaking to a Dwarf and not joining in the festivities of the Feast of Starlight. Then he realised that Tauriel had indeed been absent from the gatherings and small parties. _So that is where she has been all this time._ The King sighed and unfolded his arms, gripping the edge of the desk with his long fingers.

“Do you know why?” He asked.

“No, I do not. She had been down there four times since the Dwarves’ capture. She seems…intrigued with the Dwarf that she speaks to.” Legolas said.

“Intrigued how?”

“She sits down and listens to his stories. Where he has been, what he has done. Tauriel stays down there for hours at a time. _Amin dele ten' he_.”

Thranduil knew that it was a more personal reason why Legolas was concerned about Tauriel talking to one of the Dwarves. It was obvious what he felt now. The King knew that his son was envious and that he resented the Dwarf for talking to Tauriel and making her smile like an angel. _But you cannot be jealous of a Dwarf, my son. You just…cannot. It is unheard of._ He thought, a frown appearing on his face. A relationship between a Dwarf and an Elf had never been recorded. There was no love between them. Friends between the two races were very rare but the majority of the relationship between Elves and Dwarves was that they were trading partners, keeping their kingdoms strong. Thranduil tapped the edge of his desk with his fingers and sighed.

“I understand that you are worried for her. It is an…odd thing that she would find companionship in a Dwarf of all creatures. If you see Tauriel go down to the dungeons again, please send her to me.”

The prince nodded and was just about to say something else when the doors of the chambers burst open and Feren rushed in, panting, trying to get his breath back, his brown hair in disarray.

“Feren! I please ask you to knock before rushing in here.”

“I apologise, my lord. It is just…the Dwarves have escaped.”

Thranduil stood up straight and stared at Feren with wide eyes. Legolas’s body had frozen with shock and fury, his eyes just as piercing as his father’s. The prince looked at the King for orders and so did Feren. Instead, he asked a question.

“How?”

“Tauriel informed me that they used the empty barrels in the wine cellar and are now floating down the river.” Feren said. Legolas and Thranduil shared a glance for a few moments before the King returned his gaze to Feren.

“Assemble the Guard.” He ordered.

“Captain Tauriel has already done so.”

Thranduil saw a look of veneration flash across his son’s eyes. _When an ellon’s eyes glimmer that way when the elleth they desire is mentioned, he is definitely in love with her._ He said to himself. Once again, he felt terrible for Legolas because the prince was so deeply in love with the red-haired Captain yet she did not feel the same way. The King was pleased that Tauriel knew what to do and had already mustered the Guard together. _She knows her position very well._

“Join her and the Guard. Recapture the Dwarves. Bring them back here and I will have words with them. Go now, both of you.”

The prince and Feren bowed their heads and left the chambers swiftly. Thranduil leaned against his desk again and his fingers gripped the edge of it tightly. _How can they have escaped? Where were the damn guards? It shows that I have to tighten security._ He growled in his head. The Dwarves had slipped through his fingers like water. One minute, they were locked in the dungeons and the next, they were gone. Thranduil felt his face sting, his skin dissolving as it melted away, revealing his large burn. He gasped and flinched, his shoulders shaking as he closed his eyes, trying to control his anger. He gritted his teeth and his fingernails made a scraping noise along the strong dark wood of his desk. He finally opened his eyes and let a ferocious scream. The King panted and breathed deeply as his burn receded, his perfect pale skin returning. _This is the second time in a week that my wound has appeared._ He said to himself. It terrified him that not only his Dwarven prisoners had managed to escape, but also they were getting closer and closer to a dragon’s hoard. _And maybe I will not be the only one who bores a dragon’s wrath._

“ _Adar_?” A gentle voice asked from behind him. Thranduil jumped and looked over his shoulder to see his daughter standing a few metres away, a worried look on her face, her green eyes full of worry.

“By the Valar, Calarel! How did you get in here?”

“I heard you scream and used the back way because I somehow knew that you would not let me in.” The princess replied. She walked forward until she stood in front of her father, looking up at him.

“Why did you scream, _Adar_?”

Thranduil did not answer and simply pressed his lips together. He looked out to where the balcony stood, sunlight streaming inside. _Get them back here, Legolas. I know you will._ Calarel’s voice seemed distant and it was not until she placed her hand on his arm that he looked at her.

“What is going on?”

And so, he told her.

 

**

 

The prince ran as fast as his legs could carry him, Feren hot on his heels. They reached the open doorway out onto a ledge before the other side of Mirkwood. The trees were more evenly spaced and it was more open. The sickness had not reached this side of the forest yet. The environment was still lush and green, flowering and thriving with life. Legolas spotted the Dwarves in barrels, floating down the river, the current carrying them. The Elven gate that blocked anything from being lost down the river was just ahead of the Dwarves. _It is the only way to recapture them._ The prince said to himself so he turned around and ordered Feren to shut the gate. The light-haired Elf blew a horn that he had on him as Legolas made his way down the ledge with typical Elven agility. As soon as he got to the ground, he ran again, the trees and bushes flying past him as he kept close to the river, his eyes on the prisoners.

Meanwhile, the Captain had sent the Guard in different directions, cutting off any means of escape that the Dwarves could find. She heard the sound of a horn and the Elves standing guard at the river gate immediately looked at the barrels that were coming closer. One of the guards rushed up the steps quickly and pulled the lever down. Tauriel heard the Dwarf at the front, she guessed it was Thorin, yell in protest as the gate below closed, cutting off their getaway. All the barrels began to pile up and the Captain saw the Elves draw their swords, their shields in their opposite hands. And then, she watched in horror as an arrow pierced one of the guards. He fell to the ground and an Orc appeared from behind the tree, growling. _Oh, no! This is not going to be as easy as I thought._ Tauriel thought. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and cinched it to her bow so that she was ready to fire it at a moment’s notice. The dead guard fell into the water, splashing the Dwarves. More growls hit the Captain’s ears and Orcs began to swarm over the beautiful landscape. They attacked the Dwarves in the barrels and ruthlessly killed the Elven guards. _I knew many of those ellyn. They were loyal._ Tauriel thought. The attack continued and Tauriel could only watch. It was not until she saw Kili climbing the steps up to the lever that she took action.

She leapt up from her hiding spot and ran forward, her bow lowered to the ground. She kept her keen eyes to the Dwarf that she had gotten to know very well over the past week. He fought his way up to the lever with the help of his fellow companions. He was just about to touch the lever when an arrow pierced him in his lower leg.

“Kili!” One of the Dwarves screamed. Tauriel stopped running and gasped as Kili groaned, falling to the ground in agony. She looked at her bow to make sure that it was not her arrow that had impaled him. _Kili…_ Her thoughts trailed off. Tauriel then saw a flash of movement. An Orc began to advance on Kili but it never reached him. The Captain was quick. She let her arrow fly and it found its target. The Orc fell down the stairs and Tauriel ran forward. Her gaze locked to Kili and she could see him looking at her. Their moment of connection lasted only a moment because she knocked another arrow to her bowstring and let it loose, hitting another Orc that had begun to advance on Kili. She ran forward and reached the edge of the river just as a vile Orc came charging towards her. She blocked its attack with her bow, grabbing the Orc’s large dagger and slicing its head clean off with a yell. She spun around, her red hair flying around her as she plunged the dagger into the groin of another Orc. Tauriel knew that it was not what she was supposed to be doing. She knew that killing the Orc was not the order that her King would have set her. _He would want me to capture the Dwarves again._ But the Captain knew that the only way to recapture them was to eradicate the threat of the Orcs. It was either this or she would be returning to the palace with a group of 13 dead Dwarves.

So Tauriel continued to fight. She sliced each Orc as they came at her, one after the other. It was this precision of fighting that got her the position of being Captain. Tauriel fought with no mercy. The Orc’s dagger that she held did just as much damage as her own twin daggers did. She could hear the Dwarves shouting as they used whatever they could to hold the Orcs back (which was their hands to punch them). As Tauriel dispatched another Orc, she caught a flash of golden hair for a second. She realised that Melda had run straight past her, sword in hand, grunting as her blade went clean through an Orc’s throat. Tyaeron fought in close proximity to her but Tauriel could not see the prince anywhere. _He is here somewhere._ She told herself as the weapon she held cut an Orc’s arm off then its head.

Melda had been in the Guard for over 400 years now and she definitely knew how to fight. She was a whirling dangerous tornado of gold and silver. Her sword shredded Orc after Orc after Orc, each one fell to the ground in defeat. Her violet eyes were like a burning amethyst fire, glowing with vehemence as her blade went straight through an Orc’s mouth and out the back of its head. She spun around in a circle, her waist-length golden hair twirling around her as her sword met one of an Orc’s. Melda grunted as she pushed against her enemy’s blade. The Orc growled as their swords fell apart. Her Elven reflexes were much quicker than the Orc’s so the result was that the Orc fell to the ground. Without a head. Melda caught sight of her beloved tackling a particularly ugly Orc, its eyes a sickly yellow and its teeth bared, all different sizes. Tyaeron grunted as the Orc’s grey hand grabbed his wrist, keeping his sword back. The former Captain launched his knee forward and from the groan that came out of the Orc’s mouth, he knew he had hit the spot. When the Orc’s grip loosened around Tyaeron’s wrist, he swiftly decapitated his enemy, its head rolling down the rocks before falling into the water with a splash. The golden-haired elleth ran up to Tyaeron and killed an Orc just before it had the chance to slice her beloved’s head off. The two Elves shared a glance that lasted about a second before they were fighting again, back-to-back as Orcs advanced on them. And then, more Elves joined the battle, led by the Prince of the Woodland Realm.

On the other side of the river, Legolas burst through the bushes, firing an arrow that went clean through an Orc’s skull. He quickly fired another one that hit an Orc on the Elven gate. The prince used the skills he had gained from his training which he had started so long ago now, ducking an Orc’s blade and shooting a third arrow into another Orc’s throat. Keeping hold of his bow in his left hand, he sheathed one of his white knives from behind him with his right hand and sliced its blade along a fourth Orc’s disfigured face. Legolas cut down another three Orcs in quick succession, using one of his white knives and shooting arrows quickly from his bow. He saw a flash of red hair in the corner of his eye and he knew that Tauriel was fighting just fine, cutting down many Orcs. Legolas remembered his father’s order as he flipped his knife in his right hand, its blade slicing an Orc’s head off.

_Recapture the Dwarves. Bring them back here._

_That is what he wants me to do. If I return empty-handed, I do not know what he will do._ The prince said to himself. It was the sound of the Elven river gate opening that made Legolas look over his shoulder with shocked eyes. _Oh, no…_ He thought as the Dwarves disappeared, the barrels continuing to float down the river. He heard a growl behind him and quickly dispatched the Orc with his white knife.

Tauriel cinched an arrow to her bow, the Orc’s dagger fallen at her feet. She let it loose and the arrow went right through an eye of an Orc. She had just pulled back another one when she heard a loud groan over the sound of the rushing river. The Captain turned her head around to see Kili back in a barrel, a look of pain on his face. _It could have been my arrow that hurts him._ She thought, her green eyes wide. Her pointed ears pricked at the sound of an inhuman growl from behind her and quickly looked over her shoulder to see an Orc coming at her with its spiky sword. Her hands tightened on her bow and she knocked the Orc down into the river with her arm, her vibrant hair flying out behind her as she moved.

The landscape was filled with the clang of swords and the whoosh of arrows. Growls and yells echoed off the trees as the Elves fought the Orcs, their ugly bodies floating down the river and lying on the banks lifeless. Melda’s sword was stained with black blood and her hair was like a golden whirlwind as she moved with dexterity and speed. Not only did the Elves defend themselves, they also defended each other. While Melda fought with a particularly large Orc, Legolas shot an arrow at her opponent from his bow, making the elleth’s job easier to kill it. She looked at the prince and nodded at him before the two of them launched themselves back into fighting. They had lost sight of the Dwarves because the current was fast but some of the Guard had run ahead and were tracking, shooting down Orcs in the process. Hooking her bow onto her quiver, Tauriel unsheathed her long daggers and hopped up the steps of the river gate, ducking and avoiding Orc blows, leaping long distances to get higher onto the gate. She took down Orc after Orc, even using one’s head as a stepping stone to get to the top of the gate. The prince got to the top of the gate as well on the other side, his white knife shining in the sunlight as it cleaved off an Orc’s head and impaled one across the stomach. Legolas heard the swish of Tauriel’s daggers meeting Orcish flesh and it made his heart pound. She was fierce and strong and looked even more beautiful when she wielded her weapons. And Legolas did not think he could fall in love with her even more. But he just had. He sheathed his knife, reached her side and grabbed her arm. Their eyes locked to one another and Legolas saw that a deep fire was burning within Tauriel’s green orbs, just as fierce as the colour of her hair. The Captain saw the question “Are you OK?” sparkled in the prince’s eyes so she nodded. His hand fell away from her arm and Tauriel swapped her daggers for her bow. Both Elves knocked arrows to their bows and looked at each other one last time before leaping off the other side of the river gate, Tauriel behind Legolas.

The whistle of arrows were followed by wet thunks as they found their targets. Tyaeron and Melda reached the top of the river gate, quickly slaughtering the last of the Orcs that remained on their side. The golden-haired elleth spotted the Captain and the prince running on the high bank on the left-side of the river, arrows flying from their bows as their silken hair flew out behind them as they sprinted through the greenery. Before Tyaeron could do anything, Melda jumped off the edge of the gate, landing perfectly on the ground. The ellon looked down at his beloved as she ran after the Orcs and cut them down with her brilliant beautiful blade. The Dwarves were once again visible to the Elves, getting further and further away as the strong current pushed them down the river. The Dwarves managed to defend themselves from the Orcs with a limited number of weapons as the Elves ran alongside them, leaping from branch to branch that stretched over the banks of the river. Tauriel killed three Orcs in quick succession before pushing the last one into the water with a yell. Legolas let another arrow fly from his bow and it knocked down an Orc, its point protruding out from the back of the Orc’s neck. And then, as if he was born to do it, the prince jumped from the bank of the river and landed on two of the Dwarves’ heads.

Legolas balanced perfectly, loosing arrows from his bow at the Orcs. He jumped 180 degrees and landed on the Dwarves’ heads again, now facing forwards. He heard them grumble and grunt underneath him but he did not react or say anything because, simply, he did not care what they were feeling. Just as fired another arrow, a large pointy rock appeared in his path, jutting out of the water. To evade it, Legolas removed his left foot from one of the Dwarves’ heads and balanced on the single one, doing a pirouette as he moved. More arrows whistled from his bowstring, one of the hitting two Orcs at once. Melda ran fast, the ground disappearing beneath her as she bounded and leaps with Elven precision. Her sword was dripping with Orc blood and she could hear the clang of Tyaeron’s sword slicing through wet flesh from behind her. She saw the prince balancing on a Dwarf’s head in the middle of the river. If that was not enough, at least a dozen of his gold arrows had hit the Orcs, many of them lying dead on the banks and some of them falling into the water with a loud splash. It was not just astonishing what the prince was doing, it was also extremely dangerous. Even though Melda knew that Legolas could look after himself, she still worried for him. _What if he falls in?_ The current was very strong and even an Elf as strong as Legolas would not be able to get out of it. He could be carried down the river and maybe never come back. But to Melda’s relief, the prince leaped off the Dwarf’s head and hopped over another two to get to the left bank of the river. _We may yet capture these Dwarves again._ Melda thought, trying to remain positive and hopeful. Tyaeron kept in close proximity to Melda. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight so it made her easy to spot but he wanted to remain near her just in case she needed help. He heard her grunt and yell when her sword hit its target, an array of Orc limbs and heads littering the beautiful green environment. Every now and then, he and Melda would make eye contact, making sure that they were both alright before going back to ducking Orc blows and slicing them, letting them fall to the ground dead.

The Captain was now on the other side of the river, opposite to Legolas. She saw him slide down a small slope on top of an Orc and firing an arrow at another. He drew his white knife and held it in his right hand as he spun around, cutting an Orc across the back. Before a third Orc could attack the prince, he kicked it into the water. He then hopped across the river using the Dwarves’ heads as stepping stones. Before Legolas landed on the other side, he brutally kicked an Orc in the head. He reached a rock on the edge of the bank and battled two Orcs at once, the sound of his knife kissing the blade of the Orcs’ as well as their grey flesh. He managed to hook his bow behind him on his quiver and he unsheathed his other white knife, plunging both of his weapons in between the Orc’s ribcage. He overpowered it and kicked it off the ledge, hearing it shriek as it fell. Legolas looked behind him and saw an Orc lying dead on the ground, a uneven blade impaled in its chest. A sword like that only belonged to an Orc and an Orc would not kill itself. He did not know how it happened so he ignored it, grabbing his bow and firing one last arrow at his enemy. The prince stood on the edge of the rock and watched as the Dwarves floated away, their whole bodies soaking wet. Legolas stared at Thorin coldly as he moved further and further, his hair still on his shoulders. _The King is not going to be happy._ He said to himself.

Tauriel saw the Orc and she bared her teeth. She saw it sneak up to the prince and aim an arrow at him. Unbeknown to Tauriel, Legolas knew that the Orc was there and he knew that the Captain was there too. His senses were high and he could feel it when people were near, he did not have to see them with his eyes. Tauriel stood up straight and quickly cinched an arrow to her bow, her eyes on the Orc. Just as its arrow was loosed, Tauriel fired hers. She was scared that she had fired too late but her heart rose with relief as her arrow knocked the Orc’s one off course. The prince watched as an arrow flew past his shoulder and while his eyes widened with surprise, a small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. Tauriel yelled as she leapt off from the bushes and did a forward roll as she landed, dropping her bow in the process. She reached the Orc and kicked the bow out of its hands. She drew her daggers and kept a hold of the Orc, one dagger pressed against the throat and the other point pointed to the left-hand side of its chest. Legolas turned around and ordered Tauriel to wait. _This Orc is better use to us alive than dead._ He thought he would never think about a statement like that but he had. _What? Why should I wait?_ Tauriel asked in her mind, her green eyes glowing as she looked up at the prince.

“ _Ú-no hono ho hebo cuin_.” Legolas said and the Captain had no choice but to obey. Sure, she was the Captain but he was the prince. She was way above him and she had to follow his orders. Tauriel kept a good hold of the Orc, pressing her daggers further to its flesh but did not injury it. Legolas looked back out on the river to see that many more Orcs were following the Dwarves just as the last couple of barrels disappeared. _Why do these Orcs want to kill the Dwarves? The answer to that question is the Orc that Tauriel now holds._ He said in his head. Then, he thought of her when she had deflected the Orc’s arrow. Little did Tauriel know that Legolas had deliberately not reacted to the Orc behind him as a test. A test to see if Tauriel still cared for Legolas enough to not let him get injured or killed. And it had worked. Tauriel had saved his life. _And maybe, just maybe, I still have a chance to have her for my own._ He smiled to himself. _Now we have to get this Orc back to the palace._

“ _Tolo_ , Tauriel. We must return to the palace.” Legolas stated as he turned back around and walked past her, the sword Orcrist banging against his left leg. Tauriel glanced at Legolas before looking at the river as the last barrel disappeared down a small slope of water, the remaining Orcs following them on either side of the river. She remembered the look of utter agony on Kili’s face when he had fallen to the ground, an Orc’s arrow pierced right through his right leg. It haunted her, as did his groan of pain as he landed in his barrel, the arrow snapping in half. _I hope he will be OK._ She thought. Legolas turned around to see that Tauriel had not moved, her gaze on the river. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his bow, afraid that he would break it. Her eyes were wide and glowing, full of worry. And Legolas wished that she would look at him like that one day.

“Tauriel.”

The Captain looked at the prince who stood about four metres away from her. His eyes told her to follow him as he began to walk through the bushes back to the palace. Tauriel grunted as she ordered the Orc to move forward, her daggers now pressed against the back of its neck and spine. She could only imagine the King’s reaction when they told him that they had lost the Dwarves. _I must brace myself for anything._ She said to herself as she pushed the Orc along.

 

**

 

Legolas discovered that only four of the Guard were killed in the fight. While there were losses, the survivors had come out of it with minor cuts and bruises. The Elves were pushing the dead Orc bodies into the river, letting the current carry them away from the beautiful environment of the Woodland Realm. Black blood seeped into the blue water, swirling around in the white before disappearing entirely. Tyaeron helped Ladon and Sarolan push a rather large Orc into the river, kicking its head in too. Melda looked up and saw the prince approaching her. She walked up to him and not caring that they were surrounded by the Guard, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. To her, he was like a nephew, a beloved family member that she wanted to protect and keep safe from harm. Legolas was a little shocked but gently returned the elleth’s embrace, wrapping his right arm around her back. The hug did not last long but it was enough to make Melda breathe a sigh of relief.

“Did they get away?” She asked.

“Yes, they did. But we have a prisoner.” Legolas answered. At that moment, Tauriel appeared at Legolas’s side, her daggers locking an Orc with bright orange eyes in a strong hold. Melda’s gaze darted from the Orc to Legolas. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, her violet eyes full of venom.

“I believe the prisoner the King desires is not this Orc filth.” She said as she stared at the Orc. It growled at her but Tauriel pressed the point of her dagger against its back without a single word. The prince looked at Melda in defeat.

“I know but this Orc may be of use to us. We need to know why a large band of Orcs are trying to kill the Dwarves. There must be a reason.”

“It is probably the same reason why our King does not want them to reach the Mountain.” Melda stated.

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling that there is something else strange at work here. There is a bigger picture, Melda, and this Orc might be able to give us some insight into what it is.” Legolas said sternly, his eyes wandering around the trees which were bathed in beautiful sunlight.

“Never did I think that those words would come out of your mouth, Legolas. But tell me why this Orc would even tell us anything? We have got nothing to offer him.” Melda said,

“ _The She-Elf is right, Elfling. I will not tell you anything_.” The Orc growled in Orcish, baring its disgusting black teeth. Tauriel kneed the Orc in the back and it fell to the ground with a groan. She placed one dagger against its right shoulder and the other one was pressed against the back of its neck. Legolas paid the Orc no attention but Melda glanced at it coldly, her fingers wrapping around the handle of her sword.

“My father will deal with the Orc. Come, we must return.” The prince said, placing his hand on her arm and moving her in the direction of the palace. It was right at that moment when Legolas realised that he had called the King his father in front of someone. It had been quite a while since he had spoken the word “father” and he felt a little bit of happiness flood into him. _No matter what, he still is my father._ He said to himself. Tauriel ordered the Guard to continue to dispose the dead Orcs into the river and only after they had finished could they return to the palace. She got the Orc to its feet and made it walk as they followed Legolas and Melda, each step getting them closer to the King.

 

He waited for news in his chambers, pacing up and down the stone floor, his velvet red coat trailing out behind him. The princess sat on the large bed, her delicate hands in her lap. They had waited almost two hours and there had not been one message about the prince, the Guard or the Dwarves. _Did my son and the Captain recapture the Dwarves? Is that why they are taking so long? What if they escaped again? If they have slipped through my fingers again, I do not know what I will do._ Thranduil’s mind was simply utter chaos and his daughter could see it. She knew her father well. She was worried that he would collapse from thinking too much because that it is what he did. He thought too much and too deeply.

“I am sure that everyone is fine, _Adar_.” Calarel said. The King did not respond and the princess understood why. She always wanted to try and reassure him even if she knew that it would not work. She looked out of the balcony, the forest dark outside, the soft curtains moving in the gentle cool breeze as Thranduil continued to walk up and down the length of his chambers, his hands placed in a prayer position against his lips. His fingertips tapped one another as he waited. He waited and waited, the chambers silent. Then, just after two hours, there was a knock on the double doors.

Without looking at his daughter, the King rushed to the doors and opened them. Tyaeron stood before him, his left hand resting on his sword at his hip. Calarel stood up, her hands clasped together in front of her, the sleeves of her murky green gown falling almost to the floor. Tyaeron bowed his head, his dark hair streaming over his shoulders.

“Your Grace. The prince and the Captain have returned.” He said softly. Thranduil stared at the former Captain, wanting to know more information. Tyaeron took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Unfortunately, we failed to recapture the Dwarves.”

Thranduil immediately felt rage begin to bubble inside, his lips curling into a deep frown. The princess lowered her head and sighed. _I suppose we cannot always get what we want._ She thought. When Calarel looked up, all she could see was the stillness of her father’s back. He clasped his hands behind his back and she saw them trembling but not of fright. Of fury. The princess walked up to him and placed her right hand over his shaking hands, feeling the coolness of his rings. Thranduil slowly weaved his fingers with his daughter’s slim ones, making his own stop trembling. Tyaeron caught sight of Calarel and bowed his head at her. She nodded at him before gazing up at her father.

“Where are my son and the Captain?” The King asked.

“They are in the healing chambers, checking some of the Guard members who have suffered minor injuries.” Tyaeron answered.

“Tell them that I wish to speak with them in the throne area.”

“At once, Your Grace.” Tyaeron bowed his head for the third time and went to carry out the order that he had been given.

Calarel removed her fingers out of her father’s grip and placed her hand on his back. The King turned his head to the side a little bit so she could see his brow and the bridge of his nose.

“I am sure that they had a good reason why they did not capture the Dwarves.” The princess said. Thranduil did not say anything and stayed still. Calarel took her hand off his back and went over to his desk, grabbing his pointed crown gently in her hands. The King turned around just as his daughter stepped up to him, holding it out to him. But her face fell when he shook his head.

“I do not need a crown to command a room, _iell-nin_.” He declared. Calarel nodded and looked down at the crown, carefully not pricking her fingers on its points. It was a beautiful piece of head ornamentation. A perfect representation of the Elvenking. But the princess knew that it was not the crown that gave the King power. It was his actions and his personality. Calarel had seen the dominance that her father could hold over a room without a crown or circlet. In fact, she was certain that he could rule wearing nothing but a bedsheet and he would still hold so much power.

Thranduil placed his hand on his daughter’s face, his thumb running across her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently and Calarel’s mind flashed back to when she was an elfling, her father kissing her goodnight each and every night.

“I will return soon, Calarel.” The King whispered before leaving his chambers, his hair a long pale blonde stream down his back. The princess placed her hands on the doors and closed them. And her second time waiting began.

 

**

 

“You mean to tell me that a bunch of Dwarves outwitted our guards into using the barrels to escape?”

The King’s voice echoed off the large palace columns. He sat upon his majestic throne, his arms dropped lazily over its arms, one of his legs casually thrown over the other. He was dripping with authority and force even in such a relaxed position. Legolas and Tauriel stood below him, standing side-by-side.

“Ealin and Celros were drunk, my King. They had fallen asleep when the Dwarves escaped.” Legolas explained.

“They were on guard duty, Legolas! No Elf should get drunk on guard duty. It is worse that both of them fell asleep.” The King cried.

“Your Grace, I saw-” Tauriel began but the King cut her off by continuing his rant.

“I want both of them dismissed from their duties. They will no longer be guards in the cellar until I allow it.”

“My King, that is a bit harsh, do you not think?” Legolas asked.

“Do not presume to know what is harsh and what is not, Legolas. Unless you want me to banish them from the palace.” The King looked down at his son coldly. Legolas closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. But he did not want to anger his father further. He knew his wrath and Legolas did not want to face it himself. There was silence for a few moments and then Tauriel spoke.

“Your Grace, when we were fighting the Orcs, I saw something different.”

Both the King and the prince looked at her.

“What do you mean you saw something different?” The King asked.

Tauriel felt two pairs of piercing crystalline blue eyes staring right at her but she managed to find her voice to speak again.

“It was not just the Dwarves that were riding the barrels. I saw a person who definitely was not a Dwarf. He was too small. More like a Halfling.”

Thranduil peered down at her curiously. He had heard of Halflings before but had never seen one before which begged three questions. _What is a Halfling doing all the way out here in my realm? And why is he travelling to Erebor with the Dwarves? Why would the Dwarves need a Halfling?_ Those three questions swirled around in Thranduil’s mind. He hoped that the answers would come to him soon.

“What of it?” He asked her. Luckily, Tauriel had planned all of this out in her head. She knew that the King would doubt what she said so she had thought of a reason to make him not doubt her. The Captain removed her right arm which had been behind her back and opened her hand. The keys to the dungeons sat in her pale palm and they jingled when they moved.

“I found these on the floor of the cellar. They are supposed to be on the hook down there. My theory is that the Halfling somehow got into the palace, grabbed these keys, freed the Dwarves and then persuaded them to use the barrels as a mean of escape while Ealin and Celros were asleep.” Tauriel declared with as much confidence as she could muster. She held her head high and pressed her lips together, her green eyes locked to the King that sat high above her. He leaned back in his throne and placed the fingers of his right hand on his mouth, his gaze on his palace. His home. Tauriel’s theory, while reasonable, sounded a little bit farfetched. _How could a Halfling just walk in here? There are guards at every entrance and exit._ Thranduil thought. This infuriated him and he already had things to be angry over. The Dwarves escaping for the second time. King Thrór refusing to give him the necklace. His son falling in love with an elleth that did not love him back. Losing his great beloved. His forest sick with an evil coming from Dol Guldur. The Dark Lord residing in that fortress. The King’s life was far from simple. It was hard and difficult and that was why he had become so guarded. Because he had lost so much and hardly got anything back in return.

“How do you propose the Halfling got into the palace? It is impossible to just walk in.” He said, looking down at Tauriel, his hand falling back down to rest on the arm of the throne.

“I regret to say that I do not know he got into the palace. I did not see the Halfling at all when we first captured the Dwarves in the forest. But it is the only theory I have, my King.” Tauriel said as Legolas took the keys from her. Then, he remembered the strange feeling when he entered the palace after capturing the Dwarves. An unusual magic that he had no knowledge of. _Maybe it has got something to do with the Halfling._ Legolas said in his head. He pondered about telling the King but he realised that he would think it was preposterous so the prince kept the idea to himself. Legolas looked up at his father as his fingers closed around the keys in his hand.

“We do not return empty-handed though, my King. We captured an Orc who is now in the dungeons.” He informed the King.

“How in Valar’s name could an Orc strengthen our cause?” Thranduil asked, clearly shocked.

“The prince did not capture him to strengthen our cause, Your Grace. He captured him because he believes that something more sinister in festering within this world.” Tauriel defended her childhood friend. Legolas felt his heart skip a beat. He was pleased that she was backing him up. _That is what friends do, right?_ He asked in his head. The Captain looked at the prince as he spoke.

“I think we need to know why the Orcs were trying to kill the Dwarves. There must be a reason. They do not want the gold that Smaug now sleeps under. Why would Orcs need gold? There is something going on, my King. Something more ominous than we thought.” Legolas added. The King looked down at his son and the red-haired Captain with stern eyes, a hint of realisation in his expression. His fingers curled around the arms of his majestic throne. There was a kindness in Tauriel’s eyes when she had looked at the prince. A compassion that she had borne since the day the two had met.

“Let me go and get the Orc, Your Grace. You may interrogate him if you wish.” The prince suggested, his facial expression hopeful. Tauriel also looked up at the King, waiting for his response. Legolas awaited his father’s answer. The silence was terrible and it made Legolas nervous. And he hardly ever got nervous but right now, he was. But he found a softness in his heart for one last attempt to coax his father into questioning the Orc. Legolas cared deeply for the world that he lived in. it was a trait that Thranduil believed Legolas had gotten from his mother. He worried that one day, it would be the death of his son. _Loving is not just all happiness, Legolas. It can bring great pain as well._ He said in his head. The prince looked at his father, his eyes softening but still sparkling like crystals.

“Please, _Adar_.”

The King stared at his son in shock. It had been so long since Legolas had called him Adar. He did not know if it was months or years. The only thing that mattered was that he had said it. Thranduil could see that his son was begging him. He did not need to say words to tell him that. Father and son stared at each other and Tauriel felt extremely out of place, like she was intruding in a private moment. She looked at the ground, wanting her friend and her King to share a moment together. She made herself non-existent by not speaking or moving. It was that one word that caused a sudden personality shift in the King in a single second.

“Bring the Orc to me, _ion-nin_. Quickly.”

Legolas nodded and turned around, walking down the steps, heading off to the dungeons. He sighed with relief as a small smile graced his flawless face. _I called him Adar. And he called me son._ The prince was suddenly filled with a hint of gladness. _I can make my father see the world for what it once it was. I know I can._ Legolas said to himself as he walked through the corridors and palace halls.

Back in the throne area, Thranduil had walked down the steps of his throne and was now standing below it. He folded his arms, placing his large hands on his upper arms as he waited for his son to return. Tauriel stood silently a couple of metres away from him, her daggers in her hands. She was spinning them elegantly, letting them fall and raise on their own. He eyed her technique, the blades of the daggers catching the golden light of the lamps.

“Tauriel, why do you think the Dwarves have a Halfling in their company?”

The Captain stopped spinning her daggers and looked at the King, her eyes a gentle green, not as bright as Eletha’s had been.

“The thought has never entered my mind, Your Grace. I do not know why they would have need of him. Maybe we will know in the future.” Tauriel answered. It was not a good answer, Tauriel knew that, but she would rather say something than nothing at all. The answer to his question was now something that Thranduil wanted to know badly. He knew that Tauriel was not the one to give him the right one but he commended her that she had tried her best. All of his thoughts on the Halfling disappeared when Legolas returned, his right hand enclosed at the back of the Orc’s sharp armour. The King saw a look of acrimony emerge in Tauriel’s eyes. She looked like she was about to kill the Orc herself. Like an Elf, she hated the race of Orcs. Her hatred grew from the brutal murder of her parents by the hands of an Orc. She found them vile and would wipe out every single one of them if she could. Thranduil beckoned Tauriel over to stand behind him. He did not want her to kill the Orc before the interrogation even started. She reluctantly obeyed but the venom never disappeared from her eyes. Legolas made the Orc go down on its knees as he drew one of his white knives and held it in his left hand, placing the sharp blade against the Orc’s neck.

“You will remain quiet until we ask you to speak.” He drawled, his blue eyes glowing with disgust. Tauriel maintained her hold on her daggers as she glared at the Orc. The King looked down at the Orc on its knees, the same look of aversion in his piercing eyes. He walked around his son and the Orc as he spoke.

“Such is the nature of evil. Out there in the vast ignorance of the world, it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was. So will it always be. In time, all foul things come forth.” Thranduil now stood behind the Orc, folding his arms once again, his fingers making contact with his dark red coat.

“You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves. Why? What makes them so important?” Legolas questioned the Orc. He wanted to know. He knew that there was a deeper reason than just eradicating the dragon from the world. As his father had said, it was something evil. Very evil.

“Not thirteen. Not anymore.” The Orc growled as Legolas pressed the blade further against the creature’s throat. The Orc looked at Tauriel and spoke.

“The young one. The blackhead archer. We stuck him with a Morgul shaft.”

Tauriel’s expression turned to that of a deeper hatred, her lips pressed together and her eyes fixed firmly on the Orc in front of her. _Kili!_ She cried in her head.

“The poison’s in his blood. He’ll be choking on it soon.”

Again, his groan of pain echoed in her mind. The look of agony on his young face. _No wonder he was hurting. He will die soon._ But there was something inside her that told her that she could do something. Maybe have the chance to save him. But Tauriel knew that the King would never allow her to go after a Dwarf to heal him. Kili would die and she would not be able to do anything. She remembered the twinkle in his dark eyes and she wished she could see them again. Tauriel was determined to not let the Orc get to her. Her lips curled into a grimace, her eyes full of fire.

“Answer the question, filth.” She snapped. The Orc suddenly growled loudly in Orcish, trying to get out of Legolas’s grip but the prince pulled him back and pressed his knife tighter against its throat. _How dare you threaten her!_ He said in his head. He too fought the urge to slit the Orc’s gullet and let its polluted black blood pour onto the beautiful engraved floor. Legolas replayed the look of fear on Tauriel’s face when the Orc had mentioned the Dwarf. _He just gave her a reason to leave the palace. Adar will never allow it._ But Legolas knew that Tauriel was reckless and did not have the same self-control that he and most of the other Elves did have. After all, she was young and did not know the dangers of the world. She thought with her heart, not her head. Even though Tauriel could not understand Orcish, she knew from the tone of the creature’s voice that it was an insult. She spun her dagger with her left hand, making it clear that she was lethal and she would not hesitate to kill the Orc at that very moment.

“I would not antagonise her.” Legolas warned. He had seen her fight on countless occasions and he knew what she was capable of. _Maybe I should have let her kill him by the river._ He said in his head. Thranduil watched on with no hint of approval or dissatisfaction, his face like stone.

“You like killing things, Orc?” Tauriel asked as the Orc growled, baring its teeth and its small eyes glowing orange like small fires. But Tauriel’s fire was fiercer.

“You like death? Then let me give it to you!” She cried and launched forward with her daggers, her body lithe and agile.

“ _Farn_!” Thranduil ordered before her daggers could do any damage to the Orc. Tauriel stopped and stared at the Orc that she was wanted to kill so badly.

“Tauriel, _ego_! _Gwao hi_.” The King demanded and Tauriel looked up at him, rising to her full height. Legolas looked at Tauriel as she glared down at the Orc. The creature growled at her and scowled. She slowly walked away, passing Thranduil and descending the stone steps. Now that Kili was injured, she had to follow the Dwarves. If she could somehow save Kili, she would. Tauriel had just been given a reason to leave, whether the King and the prince liked it or not. She cared for him and she did not want to see him die. _I have to do something._ She thought. As Tauriel walked away, she heard the King’s voice but Tauriel made no move to turn back. She had her orders and made her way to her chambers to get ready to leave the only home that she had known for many centuries.

“I do not care about one dead Dwarf. Answer the question. You have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know and I will set you free.” Thranduil said gently. The prince glanced at his father who did not look at him in return. For some reason, Legolas did not fully believe that the King would just let the Orc go. But he felt the Orc soften and not struggle so he began to question it himself.

“You had orders to kill them. Why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?” Legolas asked, his eyes as cold as his father’s.

“The Dwarf runt will never be King.”

“King?” Legolas was shocked. He did not see what the dragon had done when it destroyed Dale and took Erebor but he heard many tales about what had happened. Legolas knew the damage a dragon could do. His father’s injury was proof of that. Thranduil did not want Thorin to be King either. He believed that the Dwarf was leading himself and his companions to their death. _Thirteen Dwarves against one dragon. They do not have a chance._ What about the people that lived in Esgaroth? If the Dwarves wakened the dragon, they would be in danger. Their lives would be at risk. _The lives of mortals are fleeting but they will be even shorter if Smaug awakens._ Thranduil unfolded his arms and walked slowly behind his son, his eyes on the Orc.

“There is no King Under The Mountain nor will there ever be. None would dare enter Erebor whilst the dragon lives.” Legolas continued. _But the Dwarves are crazy enough to do so._

“You know nothing. Your world will burn.” The Orc said. The King remembered the dream he had of Tarrol in snow-covered Dale. _You know nothing, Thranduil. All of you will burn._ He wondered if this Orc was referring to the same thing. Legolas, who had no idea about his father’s horrendous nightmare, pressed his white knife deeper against the Orc’s throat.

“What are you talking about? Speak!” The prince demanded.

“Our time has again. My master serves the One.”

Thranduil walked around the Orc so it was next to him, just a few paces back. His eyes widened. He knew who the One was. It was the Dark Lord. Sauron. But Thranduil already knew that he had survived in a dismantled form. He remembered the day that Valpantiel had returned from visiting Radagast over 200 years ago. The panic in her eyes when she had told him that _he_ had spoken to her. Thranduil had never seen her look so afraid. He had fought before Mordor many centuries ago alongside his father in the Battle of Dagorlad. That had been Thranduil’s first taste of war. His first taste of evil. He had come so far since then. It was the evil from the fortress of Dol Guldur that had infected his beloved forest. His only thought was that Sauron was indeed alive and that meant the end. The end of everything.

“Do you understand now, Elfling? Death is upon you. The flames of war are upon you!” The Orc began to laugh. The Elvenking had had enough. He was glad that he had his sword on him so he sheathed his sword and cut the Orc’s head clean off behind him in one swift stroke. The Orc’s body fell to the floor with a loud thud, leaving Legolas holding the head in his hand. The prince looked at the Orc’s head and sighed. _I knew he would not let him go. It was obvious._ But he could not resist asking his father why.

“Why did you do that? You promised to set him free.” Legolas said, dropping the Orc’s head.

“And I did.” Thranduil responded simply and walked around the Orc’s twitching body, his red coat trailing out behind him.

“I freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders.” The King said, stamping his foot down on the Orc’s leg and the jerking ceased quickly.

“There was more the Orc could tell us.” Legolas spoke, looking at his father.

“There was nothing more he could tell me.” Thranduil looked at his son for a few moments before turning his back and sheathing his sword. _I already knew what the Orc was referring to. But why would Sauron want to stop a band of thirteen Dwarves from retaking Erebor? What makes Erebor so important?_ Right now, he did not know. But he knew that he would find the answers to his questions in due time. Legolas stood at the top of the stairs, watching his father descend them.

“What did he mean by the flames of war?” The prince asked. Thranduil did not want to tell Legolas the whole backstory about Sauron for he already knew it. The prince did not even know about Valpantiel’s encounter with the Dark Lord. He did not need to know and Thranduil knew that Valpantiel would not appreciate it if the other Elves found out that she had fled like a coward.

“It means they intend to unleash a weapon so great it will destroy all before it.” The King said, walking along the path away from his throne. _Why must you talk in riddles, Adar? Why can’t you just tell me how it is?_ The prince thought, his shoulders dropping. _Flames of war… Will this beloved world die in fire?_ Legolas tried to picture flames engulfing the trees of Mirkwood, licking the ground before reaching the palace, melting away paths and beds, destroying everything in its wake. People screaming and shouting. The only thing that he was certain of was that war was coming, even though he did not want it to come, but he had control over it. And Legolas just has to accept that.

“I want the watch doubled at our borders. All roads, all rivers. Nothing moves but I hear of it.” The King ordered and stopped at a curve in the pathway. He turned around to face his son as two guards rushed past Legolas and took their position by the throne.

“No-one enters this kingdom. And no-one leaves it.” Thranduil ordered. He turned his back on Legolas and walked away, leaving his son to decipher the meaning of the dead Orc’s words.

 

**

 

The princess waited for her father in his chambers. She looked to her right and her eyes fell upon the desk. A wine bottle sat on top of it that was three-quarters full. Neat piles of letters and parchment and small bottles of ink with quills were placed on the desk perfectly. Calarel knew that her father was a very organised person. He had to be. He was the King. But she remembered a time when his whole chambers were a mess, glass and pools of ink covering the floor as well as pieces of ripped and blotted parchment. Calarel had still been an elfling during that time of Thranduil’s mourning and it had scared her that her father had destroyed everything in his rage. Like any daughter, she wished to protect her father and take care of him in any way that she could. Then, something caught Calarel’s eye. She walked over to the desk and peered down at the item. It was a book with a leather cover. The princess placed her hand on it, feeling the soft leather. Then, it hit her. She knew who it had belonged to.

Her mother.

The Queen had shown the book to her many times when she had been a young elfling. Calarel had always wondered where it had got to and the answer was so obvious now. _Of course Adar would have it._ The princess gently picked up the book and opened it to the first page. A beautiful realistic drawing of her father encompassed the entire page. He was in a blissful sleep, his silken hair falling around his shoulders like wisps of smoke. Calarel smiled as she flipped through the book, marvelling at all the pictures that her mother had drawn. There were even some of the princess herself, dancing and running through the forest when it had been in all its lush glory. Calarel reached the last page and she dropped into her father’s chair, clutching the book in her hands. The final drawing was of the Queen herself. _Naneth could not have done it herself. Adar must have drawn her._ She thought. The beloved Queen of Greenwood was depicted in a drawing of her standing in one of the royal gardens. Her hair was like an ocean of beauty around her as the wind whipped the sleeves of her extravagant gown. She held a rose in her hands and she looked past the drawer, out to something that Calarel did not know. She missed everything about her mother. But Calarel knew that her father was the one that was the most pained by her loss. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of all the times that her mother had kissed her goodnight and held her in her arms as she fell asleep.

“Calarel.”

The princess looked up to see that the chambers were still empty and she realised that the voice was on the other side of the doors. It was her father. Calarel quickly got up from the chair, placed the book on the desk and went to open the double doors. King Thranduil looked at his daughter and a sudden fear came across his eyes. After what he had just heard the Orc say, it frightened him that the princess would burn because of the flames of war that were coming.

“Come, Calarel. I will walk you to your chambers.” He said and held out his arm to her. Calarel slid her arm into his and Thranduil shut the double doors with his free hand. They walked down the path to the princess’s living quarters. The King was quiet and Calarel tightened her fingers on her father’s arm.

“Is everything alright, _Adar_?” She asked.

“No, darling. Everything is not alright.” Thranduil answered without looking at her.

“Well, what is wrong? Tell me, _Adar_ , please.” Calarel begged but Thranduil could not. He would tell her when he had a large space of free time. It was not the sort of topic to tell her during a short walk to her chambers.

“Not now, Calarel. I will tell you at a later time.” The King said. Within a minute, the door of the princess’s chambers appeared. They came to a halt but Calarel did not let go of her father’s arm. She looked up at him, her fingers constricting around the velvet of his coat. Thranduil pushed the door open to reveal her chambers but Calarel did not go inside.

“ _Adar_ , what has happened?” She asked. Thranduil sighed and looked at her.

“It is not a story for you to know right now. I just want you to go into your chambers and never leave them. You stay in your chambers unless I come and talk to you.” He commanded as gently as he could but it was still a command. Calarel’s hand slowly dropped from his arm and she stepped into her chambers. Thranduil placed his hand on the side of her head and kissed her forehead. The tears returned to the princess’s eyes as she looked at her father. Once she was inside, the King grabbed hold of the door and closed it. He told her to lock it and only when he heard the click of the door locking did he return to his own chambers.

Thranduil almost fell to his knees when he entered his chambers. His sword still hung by his hip in its scabbard, its blade tarnished with the black blood of the Orc he had decapitated. He managed to walk to his desk and he collapsed into his seat. _Sauron has definitely returned. I must protect my people and my realm._ Just as he had told his son, no-one could enter the kingdom and no-one could leave it. It was another problem that was now added to his list. It was all too much. Thranduil grabbed the wine bottle in front of him and poured the alcoholic liquid into a goblet. He filled it halfway and took a long gulp, letting it soothe his nerves. He remembered the look of shock and confusion in his son’s eyes when he ordered the watch to be doubled. Thranduil took another sip of wine and his gaze locked to the leather book. It was open. _I am certain that it was closed when I left to go to the throne area._ He thought. He set his goblet down on the desk and grabbed the book with his left hand.

The drawing of his wife stared at him. He had drawn it only eight years after their daughter was born. Even though it was not in colour, her eyes were a bright emerald. Her hair was a deep chocolate brown colour. Her skin was as pale as the moon. Her dress was the colour of lilac on a beautiful sunset. It was all in the King’s head. The drawing came alive in his mind. _I still miss you, melamin. I love you…_ Thranduil whispered in his mind. He placed his fingers on the bottom of the page where he had put his loopy signature in black ink. And then, without even noticing, a single tear ran down his cheek, leaving a shiny wet line in its wake.

 

Elvish Translations

  * ‘Quel amrun – Good morning
  * aran-nin – my King
  * Amin dele ten' he – I am worried about her
  * Adar – Father
  * Ú-no hono ho hebo cuin – This one we keep alive
  * Tolo – Come
  * iell-nin – my daughter
  * ion-nin – my son
  * Farn! – Enough!
  * Tauriel, ego! Gwao hi – Tauriel, leave! Go now
  * Naneth – Mother
  * melamin – my love



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the update! And we’ve reached 208 pages on Word! I am grateful that you guys are still reading this story, it means a lot to me :) I hope the river battle was written well (and all the other scenes as well), I tried my absolute best with it and it was fun to write. This chapter was inspired by ‘Barrels Out Of Bond’, ‘The Forest River’ and ‘The Nature of Evil’ by Howard Shore :) See you next week!


	17. These Are Dark Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas learns that Tauriel has left and his father gives him permission to bring her back. Calarel trains by herself and finds out that her brother has gone. She goes to confront her father about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very nervous about posting this 5,500+ word chapter. It took ages to get right so I hope you enjoy it :)

_Your world will burn._

_Our time has come again._

_My master serves the One._

The Orc’s words were repeated again and again in the prince’s head. The interrogation had not gone as well as Legolas had wanted it to. But he knew that his father would not let the Orc live. _I knew it was a long shot but at least we got some information._ The prince said in his mind but that information had led to the King basically closing off the kingdom. No-one could come in and no-one could go out. Legolas was not fond of the idea but it was the King’s order and he had to comply with it whether he liked it or not.

He approached the front gate of the palace, where Elros and two guards stood.

“ _Holo in ennyn_! _Tiro i defnin hain na ganed en-Aran_!” Legolas commanded. As he turned to walk back the way he came, Elros’s voice stopped him.

“ _Man os_ Tauriel?”

Legolas halted at the mention of Tauriel’s name. _What is wrong with Tauriel? Has she locked herself in her chambers? Has she disappeared?_ His head was swirling with thoughts about the elleth with red hair. Then, he remembered the way she had stormed off when his father had told her to leave. _She was angry but what has she done now?_

“ _Man os sen_?” Legolas asked.

“ _Edevin eb enedhor_ _na gû a megil_. _”_ Elros replied as Legolas turned around and walked towards him. Legolas was suddenly filled with huge concern. The forest was not safe even when a group of the Guard went out on a patrol. And Tauriel was alone. _Why did she leave? Is it because of the Orcs? Is she that desperate to save the life of that Dwarf?_ He asked himself.

“ _En û-nandollen_.” Elros said and pointed to the path, indicating the direction that Tauriel had gone. Legolas stopped and stared out into Mirkwood. The Captain was alone. _She needed my help from a single spider. What if she encounters an entire nest? She would be no match for them._ The prince was worried but it did not show on his face. However from his silence, Elros knew that Legolas was anxious for her not just as a friend but as something more, something deeper. _Tauriel…all by herself… What if she dies? What if something happens to her?_ Legolas knew that there was only one way he could answer the questions that were swirling around in his mind. _I must go after her._

 

The Captain jogged through the forest, her bow gripped tightly by the fingers of her left hand. The sun streamed in through the branches of the trees, rays of golden light making her vibrant red hair shimmer as it rippled down her back. It had not taken her long to make her decision. From the moment that the King had decided to keep the Orc alive, her mind was set. He had changed and she had been a witness to his alteration in personality. The King she had met had been caring and kind, not just to his people, but to his realm, the world of Arda. But now, to Tauriel, it seemed like the only thing he cared about was himself and the Elves in his palace. He did not care about what happened to Middle-Earth. He just wanted to let the world do what it was supposed to do and not intervene. Not even to try and save it. But Tauriel was not like that. She was still young and wanted to explore the places out of the Woodland Realm. She wanted to see the other Elven realms. She wanted to see how Men survived without the use of magical healing. She wanted to see how the Dwarves fashioned gems and jewellery out of colourful rocks. She felt as though her life was not confined to the realm of Mirkwood. There was more out there and she wanted to see it, breathe it, feel it.

The young dark-haired Dwarf had opened her eyes to a whole new world that she knew existed but had never seen or read about. Kili was not the only reason why Tauriel had decided to leave the palace. It was that she wanted to protect the world, the forest, that was her home. That she loved. It was already infested with evil, giant arachnids and rotten roots, and she feared that it would get even worse. Tauriel thought that maybe she could help save her home and save Kili as well. _He would be weak by now. The poison will kill him slowly but once it hits, there will a slim chance of him living._ She said in her head as her boots shielded her lower legs and feet from the uneven ground. There was something about Kili losing his life that made Tauriel feel saddened and in some ways, responsible. He did not deserve a painful death. She imagined that cheeky look in his eyes disappearing as the life was drained out of him. That smirk that made her mirror it when she talked about him. Kili was attractive, she could not deny it. He was handsome and tall, for a Dwarf that is. She felt affection for him because he was not arrogant. He had seen the world and Tauriel wanted that. She had a fondness for him and did not want to see him get hurt or die, which is where he was heading. _I hope they have outrun the Orcs._ She thought as she jogged along, her quiver bumping against her hip as she moved. But while she thought of Kili, she also thought of Legolas.

Tauriel knew he was jealous. She was not stupid. The look of repulsion he had had on his face when she had complimented the Dwarf was evident. Memories of the Elven prince flooded her mind. From the day she had met him when she had been an elfling to the last time she saw him in the throne area with the King. They were close, one would say as close as family. At least, that is what Tauriel thought. She thought of him as a brother, loved him like the sibling that she never had the privilege of having. But unfortunately, Legolas did not feel the same way. She had two males wanting her affection: one was an Elven prince whose father had told her that it would never work out and the other one was a Dwarf and one of the heirs to Erebor. _Oddest love life in the history of Middle-Earth. Worse than an Elf and a mortal Man._ Tauriel thought, shaking her head. She had not told anyone about leaving the palace. Surely, she would be punished for disobeying her King. But right now, she did not care. If a reprimand meant having a chance at saving the young Dwarf’s life, she would take the reprimand. Tauriel knew that the prince would not like that at all but he would just have to accept her decision, whether he liked it or not.

She knew that she was nearing the edge of the forest because the trees were staring to thin out and rocks began to grow out of the bushes. She slowed to a walk, her head held high in confidence as her hair cascaded down her back perfectly, not a tangle or a knot present. Tracks caught her eye and she came to a halt. Tauriel leaned down, keeping her knees off the ground. She did not want to alter the tracks for they were a clue. They certainly were not made by Dwarves or Men, definitely not Elves either, so it came to Tauriel’s attention that the tracks were that of Orcs. _They were here._ Tauriel thought, her fingers hovering over the large prints made in the dirt. She did not know which direction the Dwarves had gone so she had to follow the Orc tracks. It was her best chance. So the Captain of the Guard rose back up to her full height and headed off further away from the palace. And further away from Legolas.

 

His staff was grasped in his right hand tightly, his webbed rings shining in the light. He stood on a ledge and below was the running river that his prisoners had used to escape the dungeons. Any trace of his tears had disappeared and his face had turned to cold stone once again. He could not bring himself to tell his daughter the situation. She was so young and did not deserve to go through this sort of thing. It was not right. This was not the way it was supposed to go. But it was fate. And fate had not been on the Elvenking’s side on this day.

Thranduil thought about Tauriel’s theory about the Dwarves escaping. It seemed impossible but there was no other explanation. _They had help from someone. But why a Halfling? And why did we not ever see him?_ He asked within the depths of his shattered mind. But those answers were about as black as his heart. Then he remembered the look on Tauriel’s face when the Orc had mentioned the young Dwarf. It was a look of pure hatred and worry. Thranduil had not reacted at that during the interrogation but on the inside, he was shocked. _Why would she feel such…affection for a Dwarf? Does he give her something that no ellon does? Maybe, Legolas was also a part of this. Because she doesn’t love him, she wants warmth from another person to take her mind off things? But a Dwarf?!_ It not only angered the King, it confused him. There was an intense blood feud between the two races so for an elleth to feel such fondness for a Dwarf was not only unheard of, it was looked down upon poorly. Thranduil had never thought Tauriel would become such an elleth. _She will not be able to save her Dwarf now._ He thought as he looked out of the gaping hole in the rock in front of him, a view of his forest and river, the Lonely Mountain a solitary peak in the distance.

He had shut down the borders of his realm for one simple reason: to protect his home and his people. He would not sacrifice what he cared about to a dragon’s wrath which he had experienced, losing his beloved at the same time. The net of scars he bore underneath his perfect skin tingled and burned when he thought of Thorin and his company of Dwarves getting closer and closer to Smaug and the large hoard of gold and jewels. And in there was a necklace made from white gems that sparkled like starlight. Thranduil would get them back one day. They would sit in his hands once again, cool and their glimmer reflecting in his eyes.

He was staring at the Lonely Mountain when he heard footsteps behind him, followed by the voice of Feren.

“My lord, your son wishes to speak to you. Urgently.”

Thranduil turned his head so that the guard saw a side-view profile of his face.

“Bring him to me.” He ordered and he heard footsteps rush out then another set of them which were much softer. He did not need to turn to know that his son had stepped up to the ledge a little bit behind him.

The prince saw his father standing as still as a statue, his red coat pooling out behind him perfectly, contrasting with the flaxen colour of his hair. He followed the King’s gaze, the Mountain small in the distance, past the realm of Mirkwood. He knew what his father was thinking about. He did not need his father to speak to know what his thoughts were. Legolas thought of Tauriel, out there all alone, going after a Dwarf that she had taken a fancy to. It worried him greatly. She had gone and torn herself away from him and it made his heart sink even further. There was more than just Orcs and giant spiders out there. There were creatures that were even more dangerous. He did not want the red-haired elleth to come to harm. If she ever did, he would be harmed as well.

The silence was broken by the King’s voice.

“You wanted to speak to me, _ion-nin_.” He said without looking at the prince, his eyes still fixed to the mountain peak standing so far away from where they were. Legolas glanced at his father, his hands strong by his sides. His lips parted before he spoke.

“Tauriel has gone.”

Thranduil went rigid and Legolas saw his father’s ringed fingers tighten around his staff. The King’s lips came together in one thin line which was playing on a deep frown. Now, when he looked out into the distance, he did not think of the Dwarves. He thought of Tauriel. That fiery-haired elleth who had just turned 700 years old and was Captain of his Guard. He remembered what he had saved her in the village of Shinal so long ago when she was a young elfling. Those eyes, that were now full of wildfire, had once been fraught with terror. She had been so scared and now, she had gone out into the world that was full of dangerous creatures and unpredictable creatures. Thranduil did not need to ask his son the reason why she had gone. He knew and he knew that Legolas knew too. It was not a question of why. It was a question of why because of the why. _Why would she leave to go after a Dwarf? Does she think she can save his life?_ Thranduil said in his head as he tiled his chin up, finally letting out a sigh. He could practically feel the worry that radiated off of the prince’s body. Tauriel had left the palace and that made Legolas feel lost. The King turned his head to the side again so that the prince saw a side-view profile of his father’s face.

“Do you wish to follow her?” He asked. Legolas glanced at his father and he dug his fingernails into his palms, the pain nothing to him. The pain of losing Tauriel was much worse. He would not be able to function if something happened to her. Something deadly. Something terrible. The prince looked out into the distance, the canopy of the forest glowing deep green from the strong sunlight. _She is out there. Somewhere. With no-one._ Legolas knew how strong the Captain was but that did not stop him from worrying about her. To say he was protective of her was an understatement and Thranduil knew that. Legolas nodded his head and pressed his lips together.

“ _I can bring her back_.” He said in Elvish. The King already knew his son’s answer before he had said it. He was just grateful that the prince had not been reckless like Tauriel and had left without saying a word. Legolas was his only son and his first-born so he had a deep protective nature towards him and wished to keep him from harm. Thranduil could not deny his son the chance to go and get Tauriel back. She certainly would not return by herself. So the King nodded in agreement and turned around partially to face the prince.

“ _You have two days_.” He responded, also in Elvish. Legolas’s eyes widened when he took in his father’s words.

“In two days, the last moon of Autumn and the first sun of Winter, appear in the sky together.” He said. The prophecy stayed in the prince’s mind. He knew what the next lines were before his father even said them.

“And the bells shall ring in the Mountain King’s return. But all shall fail in sadness and the lake will shine and burn.” Thranduil finished softly, his eyes returning to the remote peak in the distance. Whether the prophecy would come true or not, he did not know. _If the Dwarves defeat the dragon, then what? If the Arkenstone is found, what will happen?_ Thranduil had seen what the Arkenstone had done to Thorin’s grandfather. It had corrupted him, changed him. He was no longer the same Dwarf and he died knowing that. Thrain remained missing and many believed he perished in the battle outside Moria’s gates but his body was never received, which led to people, including Thorin, thinking that he still lived. Thranduil did not really care. The affairs of Dwarves were none of his concern nor should they be. He was focused on his realm and his people. Nobody else. But Tauriel was one of his people and she had left when she was not supposed to. Still, he did not want to see her hurt.

“Bring her back, Legolas. Bring her home.” He said without turning around. All he heard was the sound of footsteps receding. He looked over his shoulder to discover he was alone again. The King had accepted that being King was sometimes going to be lonely. Then, Eletha came along and he felt alive. But now, she was dead and he was lonely again. He had lost her and Thranduil did not want to lose Tauriel to. He knew his son would be lost without her. He could not do that to his son. He looked out into the distance, imagining a flash of red hair in the trees below. The King wanted the elleth he still cared for as a daughter to come home. To come home and be safe, just like everybody else.

 

**

 

The princess was still in the dark. She did not know what was happening with her father, brother and red-haired friend. Calarel did notice her father was frightened, underneath his strong exterior. She could read him easily, a gift she had inherited from her mother. Something was wrong and it was something more than just the Dwarves escaping. It was sinister and strong, slowly growing in the deep black darkness of the world. _Why would my father not tell me? The “to protect you” excuse is getting old._ She thought. The one thing she knew was whatever was happening, it was new and dangerous. So dangerous that it was scaring her father. Calarel had grown up seeing her father as invincible and strong, like a boulder. But he had heart and soul. He was kind. But she hardly saw his kindness anymore. He would not tell her anything about what was going on and she felt that it was her right to know. So, the princess made a decision. _If Adar won’t tell me the danger, fine. But that does not mean I cannot fight against it._

Her handmaidens dressed her in a comfortable pair of leather leggings and a long-sleeved forest green tunic with vine embroidery down the front and the sleeves. She clipped on her vambraces as her handmaidens worked on her hair, pulling it half-back in an intricate braid, the loose locks flowing down her back. Then, she was ready to train.

When Calarel entered the training grounds, it was empty. The area was eerie without the familiar sound of blades kissing and arrows whistling. The grass crunched quietly underneath her sturdy boots as she glided across the grounds, eyeing the different stations. There were four for sword-fighting, two were knife-throwing, two for dagger training and half the area was taken up with about two dozen arrow targets with a vat of arrows positioned with one. The princess headed towards the archery station and picked a target in the middle, red circles seeping into her mind. She halted next to the vat and leaning on it was a training bow. She picked it up gently and ran her fingertips over the tough bowstring, the arch of the bow decorated with silver-leaf painting. It felt so right in her hands that she could not resist. Shifting the weapon to her left hand, Calarel plucked out an arrow from the vat and knocked it to the bow, pulling it back against her cheek. She aimed it at the target and breathed slowly, her eyes locked to the bullseye. Her fingers held the bow tightly and she heard a _thunk_ as the arrow found its mark, right in the centre. Calarel lowered the bow and smiled. She had trained with the Captain and Melda every week since she had started. She deduced the reason why the training grounds were empty. She had heard that the King had closed the borders so every member of the Guard were probably patrolling. The princess did not understand why her father had shut down the kingdom but she knew he had done it for a reason. _Something has scared him._ She thought as she grabbed her second arrow, letting it fly again, piercing the target right next to her first arrow.

The sun beated down on her but the Autumn breeze broke up the heat. It was refreshing and Calarel could smell the gentle odour of the trees that were still alive and well. Arrow after arrow flung from her bow, hitting different areas of the target. After half-an-hour, the princess placed the bow back where she found it but did not remove the arrows from the target. She was proud of what she had managed to achieve and did not want to get rid of it. With the feminine grace of an Elf, Calarel walked over to one of the dagger stations. There was a row of daggers strapped up onto the wall, about a dozen pairs. Each was a little different in the angle of the blade and the handles. The princess scanned every single pair before picking out one that she liked the look of. She took both daggers and held them in her hands. She examined them closely. They looked a lot like the ones that Tauriel had, negative spaces in the blades which allowed for more free movement. They concaved outwards, providing the user with a perfect slicing method. Calarel closed her eyes and tried to remember the way the Captain used them, how she spinned and twirled them so perfectly in her hands. The princess tried with her right hand first and within a matter of seconds, she was spinning a dagger in her hand. She could not hold back the laugh that tore itself out of her throat, echoing off the trees that surrounded the training grounds. Then, she tried her left hand. It took a little longer but then, she was spinning both daggers, getting used to the feel of them and how much they weighed. _Oh, if only Legolas could see me now!_ Calarel thought, sighing as she continued to twirl the daggers. _I will go and see him. I will show him what I can do._ She smiled to herself. She quickly hung the pair of daggers back on the wall and rushed out of the training grounds at a reasonable pace.

The palace was quiet. She only saw a few Elves walking about but she did not pay any attention to him. Calarel reached the prince’s chambers and knocked on the door.

“Legolas? Are you in there?”

There was no answer. Not even the shuffle of feet or someone exhaling. She tried pushing the door open but it was locked. She knocked again and rested her hands on her hips, waiting for the prince to appear in front of her. But he never did. The princess started to worry and her face fell when he never stood in front of her. She placed her hands on the door in an effort to see her brother.

“ _Gwanur_ …” She whispered but still, no-one answered. _Where is he? I worry about him._ She thought as she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the door. Her brother was her rock, the person that kept her grounded. She could go to him for anything, for help or advice. The sound of the waterfalls were relaxing and soft, matching the personality of the princess. She did not know how long she stood there alone, waiting for Legolas to open the door. It had been quiet when a voice alarmed her.

“Princess?”

Calarel turned around and saw Tyaeron standing a couple of feet away from her on the pathway. He was dressed in his Guard clothes with his sword hooked onto his left hip, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon. His dark brown hair tumbled over his shoulders in straight locks and his sea-green eyes searched her with deep surprise.

“Tyaeron.” Calarel said. He bowed his head and stepped forward a little bit.

“Pray forgive me, princess, but what are you doing?” Tyaeron asked. Calarel let her hands fall away from the door and she blinked at the former Captain.

“I am looking for the prince. Do you know where he is?” She inquired. Tyaeron pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes to the floor, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. The princess walked up to him and placed her hand on his arm in a gentle gesture.

“Tyaeron, where is my brother?” Her tone was desperate. She was soft in her question. The ellon raised his eyes and stared at her with a repentant expression on his face.

“He has left, princess.”

 

**

 

The coat made from red velvet lay on the large golden bed, the colours contrasting beautifully with one another. The Elvenking paced up and down the length of his chambers, one arm hanging by his side and his other hand running over his mouth in exasperation. _I should have known that Tauriel would not obey my orders. Why am I surprised that she left?_ But he was surprised. It was a complete example of defiance. He did not know how far the Dwarves had gone or if they had been run down by the Orcs. But for reason, Thranduil did not believe that. _They would have to cross the Lake to get to the Mountain in time._ The question was not when or what but how. The King already had enough to worry about and his troubles seemed to piling up every day. He hoped his son could bring Tauriel back safe and in one piece. _Eletha would never forgive me if anything happened to her._ He thought, imagining a look of fury on his Queen’s face. That was a sight that always made him feel comfortable. Just when he thought he’d never see a face like that again, the doors of his chambers flung open loudly and his daughter appeared, boring that same expression of rage on her face.

_Oh, Valar…_ He thought as he stared at her.

“Calarel! What are you do-”

“Where is Legolas, _Adar_?” The princess yelled, slamming the doors shut behind her. The tone of her voice reminded Thranduil of his wife. Her emerald green eyes flashed like wildfire and her cheeks were turning a deep pink, verging on red. Half of her hair had been pulled back in a braid but some strands had come loose and hung in front of her pointy ears, hanging down to her waist. She was not wearing a gown like she usually did. A tunic and leggings with knee-high boots and vambraces on her forearms made her look like a young Elven warrior. She looked fierce, even without any weapons. Thranduil raised a hand at her and closed his eyes.

“Calarel, darling, please-” He began but she cut him off again.

“Don’t “darling” me! First, you do not tell me anything about what happened about the Guard going after the Dwarves. And now, I have heard from Tyaeron that my brother has left! Where is he?!”

The princess’s shoulders and hands trembled with a furious temper, her eyes locked to her father. She did not like being told nothing. She was Princess of the Woodland Realm, for Valar’s sake! She deserved to know. Calarel knew that her father only had his best intentions in mind but that did not mean that she had to believe them. Because she did not. She was a mature elleth and could look after herself. The King still did not know about her secret training sessions. Calarel knew he would kick up a stink if he found out. She was frustrated. It was like she was nothing and no-one paid attention to her. Thranduil walked over to her and placed his ringed hands on her shoulders. However, she did not relax at his touch.

“Calarel, you do not need to-”

“To know? Of course I need to know! Just tell me why he has left!” The princess demanded, pulling herself out of the King’s hold, shoving past him. He watched her walk over to his desk and wrap her fingers around the wine bottle that sat on it, moving it to a goblet before her.

“Do not touch that.” Thranduil growled.

“I need a drink. You do it all the time, _Adar_.” Calarel said, throwing a cynical glare over her shoulder. She was just about to pour the red wine into the goblet when the King snatched it away from her, placing it on the chest of drawers beside the bed.

“You do _not_ need a drink. I have learnt that alcohol does nothing to help.” He stated.

“Oh? When did you figure that out?” The princess scowled, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. Thranduil’s lips quivered into a frown and his eyes flashed like a burning hot blue flame.

“I have had enough of this, Calarel. If you keep on talking to me the way you do, I will be forced to use other means to control your temper.”

“You will not hurt me. I am your daughter.”

“I never said anything about harming you. But maybe locking you in your chambers with a 24-hour guard detail outside them should make you see sense.” Thranduil growled, his tone severe. From the look in his eyes, Calarel knew that her father was not joking. She tapped the wooden desk with her nails for a moment before folding her arms and leaning against the desk. It was a pose that Thranduil had seen Eletha do when she was serious about something. He did not want to lock his daughter in her own chambers for 24 hours every single day. He was still a little distant from his son. He did not want the same thing to happen between himself and Calarel.

“Just…tell me why Legolas has left. He is my brother. I deserve to know. Please, _Adar_.” The princess said, her tone dying down, going back to the angelic sound of the Eldar. The King pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes to the stone floor. His daughter spoke the truth. He was already keeping her in the dark about everything else. He could tell her this one thing. He raised his eyes to look at her again and he nodded. He began to speak as he walked towards her.

“Legolas has left to bring Tauriel back home.”

Calarel’s eyes widened in disbelief. She stood up straight and her arms unfolded, hanging by her sides as her lips parted in shock. Her face, before it was full of fury, was now threatened with a look of extreme concern.

“Tauriel has left too?” She gasped. The King nodded and leaned against the desk himself, standing next to the princess. His black tunic had an ethereal shimmer every time he moved, his spiky orange brooch sparkling at the collar. He ran his fingers lightly through his hair, moving it off of his forehead. Calarel could see that her father was also worried, for both Legolas and Tauriel. The princess went back to leaning against the desk by her father’s side and looked at the floor. _Why did they leave? Why is this happening? **What** is happening? _She felt alone. She felt lost. She did not know anything. It was so confusing for her. She grabbed all of her hair and draped it down her right shoulders, the ends curling, reaching just past her waist. She looked up from the floor and her gaze went to her father.

“Why did she leave?”

Thranduil returned her gaze and sighed. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his daughter’s hand. She sucked in a breath as she waited for him to answer. She was very close to Tauriel. She thought of her as a sister. She loved her like a sister. Tauriel was a part of her family and she did not want anything to happen to her. Because she knew what that would do to her brother. And to her father.

“That is another story. That I will not tell you now because the time is not right.”

Calarel gaped at him. _What does he mean?_

“The time _is_ right! When are yo-”

“Calarel.” Thranduil said, tugging on her hand. He tightened his fingers and then, she squeezed them in return. The King did not want to start a second argument with her and she did not want another one to occur either. Both of them had already lost so much and they could not afford to lose each other.

“One of us must stay sane now. Throwing all of the information at you is just going to make you even more frustrated. Just know that your brother has left to bring back our Captain. We need her here.” The King proclaimed. He had once admired Tauriel’s recklessness but now, he was worried that it would be a bad thing. He knew she was brutal and cold-blooded with her twin daggers and her bow and arrow. Her wish to fight reminded him of his wife. Tauriel still held onto the magic of the Woodland Realm before it was encroached with evil. The singing, the dancing, the laughing. But all of that could be taken away. Thranduil knew that she was only doing what she thought was right. But she was young and didn’t know enough of the world to know what was really out there. There were worse things than Orcs and Goblins. Much worse things. One of them being a fearsome creature that the Dwarves were getting closer to every day.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Holo in ennyn! Tiro i defnin hain na ganed en-Aran! – Close the gate! Keep it sealed by order of the King!
  * Man os Tauriel? – What about Tauriel?
  * Man os sen? – What about her?
  * Edevin eb enedhor na gû a megil – She went into the forest armed with her bow and blade
  * En û-nandollen – She has not returned
  * ion-nin – my son
  * Adar – Father
  * Gwanur – Brother



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if some eagle-eyed readers out there noticed that I chucked in that small scene with Thranduil and Legolas talking about bringing Tauriel back. It was tragically cut from the film but I thought it was such a nice moment not only between King and prince but also, father and son so that’s why I put it in :) I’m taking a hiatus (I’m really sorry!) but I’m not sure for how long. I just need to write a few more chapters to get on top of things! Comments and kudos make me smile so please leave them if you haven’t already :)


	18. A Sight And A Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eletha secretly returns to the Woodland Realm and sees her daughter from a distance. On the outskirts of Mirkwood, Legolas meets up with Tauriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I’m so sorry I’ve been away so long! Things just happened and kaboom! I’ve missed writing and hearing from you guys! Updates will be irregular until further notice. And regarding this update, I tweaked Tauriel’s age a bit (as you already know) so some quotes from the film relating to her age will be different. It’s a long chapter, just over 7,000 words :)

Her green travelling coat was draped over the horse’s back. The forest she had grown up in was up ahead and she swallowed deeply before gasping quietly. It was not beautiful and green and full of life. Instead, it was dark and deranged. The trees were wonky and spiky, the roots curling into odd shapes on the forest floor, red and brown leaves littered around. It was not the same forest that Eletha loved. She gripped the reins, nudging her white mare closer. Arwen rode by her side, also on a white mare. After Eletha had agreed to go back home and see her children, Lord Elrond demanded that she should not ride to the forest alone. Arwen had kindly offered and the journey, for the most part, had been quiet. The Autumn wind blew the ellith’s hair back, brown and black strands flying out. They halted their horses at the Elven Gate and both stared up at the dark canopy of trees. The air smelt sick and evil, a deep disease lying upon what once was Greenwood the Great.

Eletha looked ahead into the path that went through the forest, all the way to the palace. At the most, it would probably take her a couple of hours to reach where her family were. It scared her that she was so close to where her children, her friends and her beloved were. It had been four centuries since she had been anywhere near Greenwood or her family. Her heart was clogging up her throat as her fingers tightened on the horse’s reins. In a split second, she made a decision.

“I have to go in alone.”

Arwen’s head snapped to the side, her sapphire eyes wide. The brown-haired elleth kept her gaze locked ahead into the darkened forest. _My son, my daughter and my husband are on the other side._ It shocked her. She wondered why she had agreed to do this. Eletha knew that if she had not left Rivendell, Elrond would have literally put her on a horse and pushed her out of his home, along with Arwen by her side. She could feel the Lady of Rivendell’s eyes on her and she gulped as her white mare shuffled its feet.

“No, Eletha! My father told you what lurks within.”

“I know.” Eletha replied honestly.

“Then you know why I cannot let you go in alone. You could be hurt before you even reach the palace.” Arwen retorted, moving her mare forward a little, keeping her eyes to her friend. Eletha returned the elleth’s gaze and threw her cloak back on her left side to reveal the sword she had received from Melda so long ago on her 1,711th nameday. Its blade was in the scabbard hook onto her hip, the white gems on the hilt reflecting the light of the sun. Arwen had seen the weapon before and she had seen Eletha train with it in Rivendell. She looked back at Eletha’s face and saw that she was wearing a slight smirk.

“I will be fine, _mellon-nin_.” Eletha reassured Arwen and calmed down her horse. She dismounted the mare, keeping her right hand wrapped around the reins. Her hair was pulled back in thick twists, joined together at the back of her head with a silver clasp, a few strands loose in front of her pointy ears. She stroked the horse’s neck with her free hand, its white fur soft beneath her fingers. The rustle of leaves was gentle, blowing around on the forest floor. Eletha looked into the forest, the hole of darkness deepening the further in. There was hardly any light. She knew that Orcs and giant spiders prowled within, scuttling about the place. She did not feel like going in alone but she had to. What would be the point of Arwen going in with her? Eletha would rather see her children by herself. She could fight and defend herself. Her sword was a powerful weapon and she could use it very well. _Nothing could be worse than four dragons at once._ She thought.

Eletha stepped up to the Elven Gate, leading the horse by her side. The closer she got, the more she wrinkled her nose in disgust. There was no fragrance of flowers or pine trees. It was just evil and it broke Eletha’s heart. _This is my home._ The Dark Lord was already having an effect on the Woodland Realm. He had already started to make his move on the light of the world of Arda. _It is starting._ Eletha thought. She turned around to face the black-haired elleth.

“Thank you for coming with me, Arwen, and thank your father for me. I will return soon.” She said with a smile, bowing her head a little. Arwen did the same gesture and looked at her sweetly.

“Good luck, Eletha. _Namaarie_.”

Then, she tugged on her mare’s reins and turned around, cantering in the direction that she and Eletha had just ridden from. Eletha watched as Lord Elrond’s daughter rode away into the distance, her silver cloak billowing out behind her, contrasting her with her long black hair. The mountain ridges were tall and peaked in the distance, the sky a deep grey-blue with wispy clouds floating through the air. She turned back around and took a deep breath. With a reassuring pat to the horse’s neck, Eletha walked forward, stepping through the Elven Gate. The horse’s hooves echoed on the stone platform and a crackle in the bushes made shivers run down the elleth’s spine. And for the first time in her home, she was frightened from going further.

But Eletha was brave and courageous. Her mare was slightly restless but she managed to pull her along as she walked off the platform and onto the Elven Path that led straight to the palace. Eletha looked to her left and her eyes fell upon a statue of herself. She remembered the day when Thranduil had shown her his masterful creation. She looked at the stone face of herself, like she was staring at her reflection. But the statue was not bathed in glorious golden light like it had once been. Instead, twigs and green leaves were wrapped around the head of the statues, continuing all the way down to the hem of the stone gown. Her pale face was lifeless and her lips were pressed together, her grey eyes showing no emotion. Eletha then noticed that a part of the leaves had been brushed away from the side of the statue to reveal a red large eye painted onto the stone. _He really has returned._ She thought as her fingers traced the picture of the eye. She could not imagine how petrified Valpantiel was when the Dark Lord had spoken to her. Even without a physical form, he still struck fear in the hearts of many. Eletha swallowed a lump in a throat and tightened her grip on her horse’s reins, moving forward, walking into the darkness before her.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet for Eletha’s liking. The air was too thick and the trees blocked out the sun’s bright golden rays. The bushes were no longer a luscious green nor did the leaves glow orange and gold. There was no residue of Greenwood at all. The roots of trees had turned black with tinges of dark purple and fierce orange. The trunks were covered in winding dark vines and leaves, disguising their beauty. Eletha kept to the Elven Path, keeping the horse calm by her side. She rested her left hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it if need be. Her keen eyes were alert and her pointed ears pricked up at any sound. Eletha could see why the people of Middle-Earth now called the forest Mirkwood. It was dark and smelly. It held none of the joy and light that Greenwood the Great once held. She felt lost in her own home. It did not seem like her home at all. Each rustle made shivers ripple down her spine and made her skin crawl. Eletha lost track of time as she followed the Path. She had to stop on more than one occasion to help relax her horse. The mare was restless and backed up a few steps, snorting and throwing her head back. Eletha ran her hand down the horse’s head and whispered soft phrases in Elvish, scratching its fur, her gaze gentle.

She did not know what time it was when she saw the palace coming into view ahead of her. She heard the sound of the rushing river and the tweets of small birds. The trees opened up and looked healthy. _Not all of Greenwood is sick yet._ Eletha thought, smiling a little. The air was fresh again and she could breathe properly. She kept quiet as she quickly moved behind the trees, tugging the white mare along with her. Eletha peeked around a large trunk and saw four guards standing in front of the gate. The sun reflected off their gold and silver armour. They were still as statues, waiting for anything to bound across the stone bridge. _I cannot just walk across and say hello. I will give the guards a heart attack!_ Eletha bit her lip, trying to figure out what to do. She leaned against the large tree trunk and sighed. She was so close to her home, to the people that she loved so dearly. _Everyone is behind that gate. They are all there, wishing that I was still alive. And I am. I am alive and they do not know it._ But Eletha knew that she could not just walk in. she devised a more secret way to see her children. Being Queen had its perks as well as its challenges. One of the pros was that she knew many restricted ways to enter and exit the palace. She could use one of those and she knew exactly which one.

Pressing her finger to her lips, she nodded at the horse. The white mare blinked at her and Eletha smiled. She looked around the tree trunk again and swiftly darted behind tree after tree, determined to remain invisible. The whole palace was not surrounded by water ( _Thank the Valar!_ Eletha thought) so there were entrances into the palace all around but not all of them were guarded. She reached the one she was going to enter in and tied the horse’s reins to a tree close by, tugging them to make sure that they were secure. She kissed the mare’s head and whispered “Stay here” to her in Elvish. Giving her one last pat, Eletha moved in the direction of the large wooden door positioned in a dark hedge that wrapped around the area inside. It was quiet so Eletha hoped that no-one was around. With a deep breath, she took hold of the handle, turned it to the left and pushed.

The door opened silently and Eletha took a single step forward. She glanced around and was so pleased to discover that the royal cemetery was deserted, not a person in sight. She sighed with relief and walked inside, shutting the door behind her without a sound. Her cloak trailed out on the grass behind her, her flat boots silent on the ground. A dress would have been impractical to wear so Eletha had decided to wear brown leggings with a long green travelling tunic and a brown leather circass as a form of protection. Flowers bloomed around the edge of the cemetery, the couple of trees sprouting leaves of red and gold, along with deep green. Eletha breathed in the fragrance of the air and she knew, in that moment, she was home.

She glided across the area, smiling as she looked up at the bright blue sky, fluffy clouds floating like white cotton balls. The elleth twirled around in a circle, her arms open wide with the emotion of joy. She stopped spinning and looked down at the ground, her long chocolate brown hair coming to a rest down the front of her body, all the way down just past her waist. Before her stood three gravestones, all carved out of grey marble. The grass had grown over the area of the burials and each grave had a bunch of withering flowers sitting before it. Eletha walked around the right of the gravestones, wanting to see the engravings on the other side. Before her…disappearance, she had only gone down to the cemetery on two occasions. The first time was the evening before she had married Thranduil and the second time was when she had just given birth to Calarel. She had payed her respects to the Elves that would have been her grandparents and told them that she would look after their beloved son as well as her own two children. The third gravestone had definitely not been there when she was still here. She had never seen it before. And when she saw the engraving on it, she understood why.

 

_ELETHA_

_The beloved Queen of His Grace, Thranduil Oropherion_

_Mother to Prince Legolas Thranduilion and Princess Calarel Thranduiliel_

_May she live on in our hearts forever_

 

There was nothing more odd than seeing your own gravestone. It truly was strange. _They actually held a funeral for me. Even though there was no body to bury._ Eletha thought as she knelt down in front of the grave. The letters were carved deep into the marble in a calligraphy style but still beautiful and easy to read. Tears dripped from her eyelashes, rolling down her cheeks silently as she thought of the day of the funeral. _What happened during it? Did they make speeches? Did Calarel cry beyond belief? Was everyone in such shock that they did not cry? What did Thranduil do? What did he say? How many people attended? When did it take place?_ All these questions were burning in her mind and she had answers for none of them.

“ _Amin hiraetha_.” She whispered. Eletha was not just apologising to one person. She was saying sorry to everyone that she had hurt, that she had left. Including herself. This was not how her life was supposed to go. This was not supposed to happen to her family. They should be living in happiness, going about ruling the realm of Greenwood and trying to defeat the darkness. Eletha lowered her hand and placed her hands on her thighs, her hair falling over her shoulders. The breeze blew strands around her face but she did not care one little bit. Her grave was not supposed to be here. This was not what she wanted at all. She cursed herself for everything inside her mind and then, after a minute or so, she heard the sound of footsteps. Eletha raised her head and looked over her shoulder. Then, along with footsteps, a clear angelic voice pierced the air.

“I go every two years, _Adar_. I am going whether you like it or not.”

It was definitely a female. A mature one, at that. Eletha quickly got to her feet and darted behind one of the trees, gathering her cloak so that it did not peek out from behind the trunk. She rested her back against the trunk and kept her mouth shut, breathing deeply. She heard the sound of fabric on the grass and the sound of crunching. Eletha then quietly peered out from her hiding place and saw an elleth kneeling before the grave, a bunch of red and white flowers in her hands. She was dressed in a beautifully-patterned tunic the colour of forest green and matching brown leggings with flat boots. A deep green cloak was draped over her shoulders and Eletha realised what the sound of fabric on grass was. The elleth’s hair was the colour of chocolate and her eyes were like freshly-cut emeralds. She was stunning, her fingers gripping the stems of the flowers. From Eletha’s sharp sense of Elven eyesight, she saw a necklace locked around the elleth’s neck. It had a gold chain and a gold pendant in the shape of an elk. Eletha remembered when she had first received that necklace from the King, on the day of the _Sheelala_. The day they had announced their betrothal to the realm.

It had been so long ago, almost 500 years since that night. Tears burned in her eyes as she looked at the young elleth kneeling in front of the grave, Eletha knew who she was. She had the same hair, the same eyes, the necklace. Eletha knew that Thranduil would not give the necklace to a random elleth. This elleth was someone important. The Princess of the Woodland Realm.

 _My daughter._ Eletha said in her mind.

Calarel was so beautiful. Eletha had to suppress her teary laugh. Her daughter had grown up into a stunning Elven maiden. She was an elfling no longer. But she was still young. Eletha could see the youth in her eyes which were so much like her own. She watched on as the princess leaned forward and placed the bunch of flowers in front of the Queen’s gravestone, sniffling as tears pricked her eyes.

“Hello, _Naneth_.” Calarel whispered. Hearing that word come out of her mouth made Eletha cover her mouth to stop herself from whimpering. _I “died” when she was so young. But she still calls me her mother._ It made her so happy. She listened as her daughter continued to talk.

“I hope everything is OK where you are. You are missed greatly here every day. I miss you more than ever now. Our home is sick and _Adar_ ’s personality has changed because of it. He is no longer the happy ellon that I once knew. But he is still my father and my King. And Legolas has left the palace to get Tauriel back because she left without permission. Everything has changed, _Naneth_.”

Eletha was shocked at what was coming out of the princess’s mouth. _What has happened to Thranduil? Has he sickened along with the forest?_ She knew how much he loved and cared for his home. He felt connected to it but it still concerned Eletha that her husband had changed the same as the forest. She was also worried for her son and Tauriel. **_Both_** _of them have left? What? Thranduil would not let his son leave, especially not now. Why has Tauriel left? There must be a reason._ Everything had suddenly got more complicated. Eletha looked away and rested her head against the tree trunk, closing her eyes. Her daughter’s words echoed in her mind. _Everything has changed._ And Eletha believed it. Her husband’s persona had been altered in a corrupt way. Tauriel had left and her son had gone after her. The princess was extremely concerned and upset, Eletha could tell from the tone of her voice. The Queen was worried before. Now, her concern had gotten 1,000 times worse. _I cannot come back now. They have already got so much on their plate. What would Calarel do if she saw me?_ Eletha did not know if she wanted to take the risk and make things worse. But then she remembered what Lord Elrond had said to her.

_Just this one time, see them. You may never get a chance to ever again. Would you not want to look into their eyes one last time and tell them that you love them?_

Yes, she did want to do that. She wanted to look into their eyes and apologise and say that she loved them more than anything. Eletha wanted nothing more than that. And the opportunity to do was just in front of her. She just had to take it.

_A great evil is stirring, Eletha. A war is coming. A war that the Woodland Realm is certainly going to be a part of. Before it comes, see your children._

Eletha had had her share of war and did not want to a part of another. But she did not have control over affairs like that. Everyone she loved was in danger from that great evil. She did not to look over her children’s dead bodies and learn that they had perished not knowing that their mother still lived. The same for the King. She had dreamt about him dying many times before, standing over his broken lifeless body as tears streamed down her cheeks.

_It is time._

Eletha knew that it was now or never. It had been too long already. She needed her family as much as they needed her. She silently took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She looked out from around the tree trunk and was just about to walk out from her hiding place when her eyes fell upon an ellon. He was standing at the entrance to the cemetery, his tall body garbed in the most lavish of clothes. It was the person Eletha had fallen in love with from the first time they had met. He still looked the same, his head devoid of the pointed crown but he did not need a crown to be a King. She sucked in a gasp as King Thranduil walked forward, his rings glittering in the sunlight. He was so beautiful but his eyes had lost their loving sparkle and his lips no longer smiled. Her heart stopped at the sight of him. He was only about fifteen metres away from her. He was so close. They were such close proximity to one another. _All I have to do is just walk out. That is all._ Eletha said to herself. She watched as the Elvenking stepped up to the daughter that he and Eletha had created together.

“Calarel, darling.” He whispered. The princess glanced over her shoulder and pressed her lips together. She had a feeling that her father would follow her. After finding out that her brother had left the palace, she had decided to visit her mother’s grave and tell what had happened. Calarel liked talking down there in the cemetery because she could say what she felt. She had a hunch that her mother could hear her and would listen to her. Little did Calarel know that her mother _could_ hear, because she was in the same place, only the princess could not see her.

“Flowers will not bring her back, _iell-nin_.” Thranduil said, coming to a halt behind his daughter.

“I know that. It just makes me feel free coming down here. When was the last time you visited the graves of your family, _Adar_?” Calarel asked, not looking at him. The princess was the one person who went down to the cemetery the most. She did not know why she went down. As she had told her father, she felt free. Like she could say anything, knowing that no-one would hear her. Her fingers curled on her thighs as she stared at the Queen’s gravestone, an image of her mother appearing in her mind. Thranduil’s eyes darted to all three of the gravestones individually. He had not come down to the cemetery for many decades. It only made the pain in his heart grow. Three of the most important people in his life had been taken away from him and he had been there when all of them had died. King Oropher, his father, had left the world of Arda in Thranduil’s arms, telling his son to look after and protect the realm of Greenwood. Queen Lyraesel, his mother, had perished not long after her husband. Thranduil had been with her on her death bed, saying goodbye to her before she faded away. And Queen Eletha, his wife, had been snatched away in a ball of dragonflame right before his very eyes. Death surrounded him because he was a King. But Thranduil had experienced his full share of it. The closing off of his kingdom was his way of saying that he did not want anyone else to die. But two of his most loyal Elves had left. And he was worried that his son and the Captain were approaching death.

Thranduil stepped to the side and knelt down next to the princess. He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. Calarel wiped her nose with the back of her hand as tears pricked her eyes. She rested her head on the King’s shoulder, grateful that sometimes, her father shone through the distortion of his personality.

“Seeing their graves does nothing for me, Calarel. It only makes the pain of their passing even worse.” Thranduil said quietly. The death of his father was something he could not have prevented. But he did die a strong King and a strong person. The death of his mother was out of his control. He had begged her to stay with him, telling her that he could be King on his own. He needed help. Lyraesel’s advice to her son was to find a Queen. There he would find love, help and solace. And Thranduil did find all of those things in Eletha. Her death, however, was something he _could_ have prevented. But his wife had been feisty. She knew her mind and once it had been set, no-one could stop her. But that had led to her death. Thranduil had never fully forgiven himself about not trying harder to stop her, even though everyone else around him had forgiven him. It was something that would haunt him for the rest of his immortal life. Then, Calarel asked him a question he did not expect her to ask.

“What was Grandmother like?”

Both Thranduil and Eletha were surprised by the princess’s question. The King had told his daughter about his late mother many times so he wondered why she had asked him again.

“You know what she was like. I have told you before.” He said.

“I know. But tell me again. I like hearing how you describe her.” Calarel smiled softly, her eyes slowly closing as she took slow breaths. Thranduil felt his daughter relax into his hold and he rested his cheek on the top of her brown-haired head.

“Your grandmother was a beautiful elleth, both inside and out. She was the joy of my father’s life and my own. She was all laughs and smiles. Her eyes were like sapphires, sparkling with every kind of emotion. Love, happiness, sadness, grief. Her hair was like a golden river, soft waves falling to her waist. I remember playing with her locks when I was young. It brought me elation.”

“Like how Legolas and I used to play with your hair.” Calarel cut in.

“Yes. I know that it made both of you happy, considering how long it sometimes took me to untangle the knots and braids you two had weaved into my hair.” Thranduil smiled and the princess chuckled like an elfling.

Eletha’s back slid down the tree trunk without a sound. She sat down on the ground, hugging her legs to her chest as she heard her husband and daughter laugh together. She had never heard such a beautiful pair of laughs, syncing together. It made Eletha happy that even now, as the days grew darker, that her family still found the time to chuckle and reminisce about their happy past. She listened as Thranduil continued to talk.

“As you know, my father was hardly ever there. He was always busy with his kingly duties, for a battle was approaching. So my mother and I had a very close relationship. I knew I could go to her for anything. We talked about so many different things all the time. She was the one who showed me the royal gardens. She was the one who educated me about love. And she was the one who told me to be a King and that she was proud of me.”

He took a breath and looked at his mother’s grave. Her funeral had been one of the most sorrowful days of his life. He could not acknowledge the fact that his mother was gone. Both of his parents had left him to rule a realm that was weak. But he stood up and became mature. Thranduil knew what he had to do. And he had done it. The gravestone of his mother read:

 

_LYRAESEL_

_The beloved Queen of His Grace, the late King Oropher_

_Mother to Prince Thranduil Oropherion_

_We will remember her for all time_

The words engraved in the marble made his heart fall. He felt his daughter fidget in his embrace so he continued to tell her about the grandmother she had never met.

Eletha listened to her husband speak. The sound of his voice made her remember the happy life she had experienced with him. Being his Queen and gifting him with two beautiful children. She heard her daughter cut him off and they laughed together when certain things were brought up. Eletha just sat there behind the tree trunk, listening to her family talk about her. And they did not even know that she was right there, so close to them.

 

**

 

She had reached the edge of the forest. The foul stench of raw blood and deadly Orcs filled her nostrils as the silent river flowed out into the great lake. The water was a beautiful clear colour, the rocks and fish could be seen beneath the surface. Trees lined the bank on the other side while on the side she was on were puddles of red blood, pooling from a dead dear that the Orcs had fed from. Flesh was strewn about, blood finding its way into the cracks and crevices of the grey rocks.

Tauriel gently hopped along the rocks, carefully evading the bright red blood and the dead animal. She ran to the edge of the rocks and stared out at the lake. She could see Laketown in the distance. _I cannot stop now. A lake will not stop me._ The sun lit up her red hair, making it burn like a flame. There was no sign of where the Dwarves had gone. She wondered how much Kili was in. Or if he was even alive. Tauriel had never run through the forest so fast in her life. She thought of the life that she was leaving behind. A Captain had never disobeyed their King’s orders in such a way that she had done. The moment she had stepped out of the palace, she heard that the King had ordered the watch to be doubled and to the borders to be shut down. Tauriel thought about what she was doing. What she was _really_ doing. _I have disobeyed my King’s order._ She knew it would have consequences for her. But the thought of Kili dying was not something she could accept. He was so young, especially to Elves. He had so much ahead of him and to have it taken all away by a single arrow was terrible for Tauriel to comprehend.

He watched her. The colour of her hair made her easy to spot, the forest green colour of her Guard clothes accentuating her slim figure. He followed her gaze, out towards where Laketown stood. He repeated his father’s words in his head as he peered at the Captain of the Guard.

_Bring her back, Legolas. Bring her home._

The prince could just simply show himself to her, grab her arm and drag her back to the palace. But Legolas did not want to do that. He never wanted to touch an elleth in that way, not aggressively or with force. He would just have to do his best and persuade her to return home. Where she belonged.

The Captain snapped out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps. Her pointy ears pricked up at the sound. Tauriel gently touched an arrow at the quiver at her side. Quickly, she drew her arrow back on her bow and spun around. Her eyes found Legolas. He mimicked her action, arrow drawn on his bow and his position agile. Tauriel shot a look of shock at her friend, even though she knew he would follow her. _He loves me. Of course he would follow me._ She thought.

“ _Ingannen le Orch_.” She said loudly, her fingers tightening on her bow. The prince smirked as he kept a tight hold on his arrow.

“ _Cí Orch im, dangen le_.” Legolas retorted with the same tone. They both lowered their bows at the same time and Tauriel’s gaze went back out to the lake. _Kili is out there. And Legolas is here only for one reason._ And she knew what the reason was. She was not stupid.

“Tauriel, you cannot hunt thirty Orcs on your own.” Legolas said, walking forward a few steps. _Yes, I can._ Tauriel wanted to say but she held her tongue. Instead, she came up with a better reply.

“But I’m not on my own.” She said, making eye contact with him.

“You knew I would come.” Legolas stated. _Of course she knew. After the advance I made on her so many decades ago._ He still remembered that night vividly. His heart had broken that night because he knew she did not love him back. She did not want him and she never would want him. Tauriel thought of what happened this morning with the battle by the river. He had known the Orc was there, pointing an arrow at him, ready to kill him. She knew it had been a test to show him if she really cared about him. And of course she did. Legolas had been her friend for centuries. He became the brother she never had. Tauriel left because she wanted to save Kili if she could. If she had a chance, which she did, she would try. It was also a test. A test if Legolas really loved her. Tauriel wanted to be sure. And her test had been successful. She smirked gently and looked out at the distant Laketown. _Maybe Kili is out there._

“The King is angry, Tauriel. For almost 700 years, my father has protected you. Favoured you.” Legolas said, walking up to her, stopping on a rock next to Tauriel. _Angry did not even begin to cover it._ He thought. Legolas understood that his father was worried. He cared for Tauriel like she was one of his children. He had given her privileges that were usually not befit for someone of her status. But she had a creative for fighting. A fine soldier she was and that was why she had become Captain of the Guard. The only female to hold the position.

“You defied his orders. You betrayed his trust.” The prince continued, his eyes turning cold. Tauriel had never wanted to disobey Thranduil. While Legolas became her brother, the King became her father. She wondered what life would like if the Queen was still around. _Would she still have an influence over his decisions?_ But Tauriel would never know the answer. Thranduil had left her no choice. His mind had sickened, along with the forest. She could not just sit back and do nothing. It was not in her nature. She loved the world as much as everyone else, despite not spending as the length of the time the King had on it. This beautiful world still had splendour and magic in it. Tauriel did not want to see that happen. If the King would not see that, she would do some good herself. She would rather die protecting her home than perishing like a child within the walls of the palace.

“I know I did. But I cannot just do nothing, Legolas. You know me. I just cannot.” Tauriel retorted, pressing her lips together. Legolas saw the fire brewing in her green eyes. He knew she could do good but not herself. She was just one elleth and even though she had a remarkable set of skills some Elves did not possess, she could not defeat the evil. It was too strong.

“ _Dandolo na nin…e gohenatha_.” Legolas begged as politely as he could. He knew his father could be forgiving. The King wanted Tauriel back. If she returned, he would pardon her for leaving. Legolas knew he would. But Tauriel had a hard time believing that. She found herself looking into the eyes of the King, not his son. _I knew there would another reason for him coming after me. The King sent him after me._ But the King, _her_ King, had changed. He was not the same. _Why can’t he understand that all I wish to do is help?_ It had been centuries since the King had done anything to help anyone outside his realm. He bore no love for the other races of Middle-Earth. Especially Dwarves. But Tauriel was young. She knew not to judge all Dwarves for the actions of a few of them. Not all of them were the same. Kili was like that. He was not arrogant or thick, as Thranduil and Legolas thought of them. He was interesting and kind. Tauriel was intrigued by him. He was so much younger than her and had seen so much already. More than anything Tauriel had ever seen. She had never left the Woodland Realm before. She knew it was her time to go and do something herself, whether King Thranduil liked it or not.

“ _Ú-’ohenathon. Cí dadwenithon, ú-’ohenathon im_.” She snapped and turned away from the prince. Tauriel took a couple of steps forward, closer to the water. She gestured to the lake with her bow as he looked over her shoulder at Legolas.

“The King has never let Orc filth roam our lands. Yet he would let this Orc pack cross our borders and kill our prisoners?” Tauriel asked. Legolas was surprised by her statement. _Does she really care that much?_ She held a lot of compassion. Perhaps too much. It could end up being a bad thing. It could be the reason of Tauriel getting hurt if she continued with her mission.

“The King just wants you back, Tauriel. And what happens if you find the Dwarves? You will not bring them back to the palace. They would not obey you.”

“I know. I was not planning on recapturing them.” Tauriel said.

“What do you plan to do then?” Legolas asked, staring at the red-haired elleth. Tauriel did not need to think about her answer. It was simple what she planned to do.

“Fight.”

The prince’s eyes widened. _Fight? Why? It has nothing to do with her._ Tauriel did not need to be caught up in a battle involving Dwarves. It was not necessary. They were probably going to their death, meeting a great fire-breathing dragon. Tauriel would not meet her end in such a way. Legolas would not allow it.

“It is not our fight.” He declared.

“It _is_ our fight.” Tauriel bit back. She saw the King’s views seeping into the mind of the prince. But Tauriel did not want to be the cause of the two of them becoming even more distant than they already were. She simply gave Legolas a choice. Either wither away inside the palace or go out and try to save the world if it could be done.

“It will not end here, Legolas. With every victory, this evil will grow.” Tauriel responded, walking back to Legolas. The more the dark side had an upper hand, the more the world would be in danger. It was not just about saving Kili. It was about saving the world of Arda. The ailment violating the Greenwood Forest was a taste of what was to come.

“Every place in Middle-Earth will become like our home. Diseased and dreary. It will keep on spreading. If your father has his way, we will do nothing. We will hide within our walls, live our lives away from the light and let darkness descend.”

Legolas looked at Tauriel, shocked by her pessimism. The King was only doing what he thought was right. And Legolas knew that. He knew his father had changed but for good reason. His beloved was taken away from him and his forest was sick. He was only trying to protect what he still had. Legolas thought of the King and his sister. They were both hiding inside the palace. _No doubt the princess knows where I am. She would have gone crazy._ He knew his little sister well. She had inherited their mother’s fierce personality when she knew nothing and found something out way later than everybody else. Tauriel looked at him gently, her expression softening.

“Are we are not part of this world?” She asked him. Legolas’s eyes became wide and bright. Tauriel could see the answer on his face. He was an open book. Just like with how he felt for her. The prince imagined what his mother would say. She would tell him to go and do something good if his father would not. _Yes, we are a part of this world. Naneth loved this world. She would not want to see it become dark and dead._ Legolas thought. Tauriel asked him another question which did not need answering with words.

“Tell me, _mellon_ , when did we let evil become stronger than us?” She asked intensely. Legolas’s face became stern and his lips pressed together in a thin line. He stared out at Laketown and made a decision. He would go with her. Legolas knew he had no chance in persuading her to come home. She would either go by herself or he would go with her. And Legolas chose the latter. It was the only way. He knew that his father would be furious but Legolas did not possess the lack of optimism that Thranduil had. He was a fighter and if he was to fight to protect this world, he would fight. Whatever the cost. Legolas would do it for his mother. She would have wanted him to do this. Legolas would do it to honour his mother. He hoped he would do her memory justice.

 

Elvish Translations

  * mellon-nin – my friend
  * Namaarie – Farewell
  * Amin hiraetha – I’m sorry
  * Adar – Father
  * Sheelala – Spring Festival
  * Naneth – Mother
  * iell-nin – my daughter
  * Ingannen le Orch – I thought you were an Orc
  * Cí Orch im, dangen le – If I were an Orc, you would be dead
  * Dandolo na nin…e gohenatha – Come back with me… he will forgive you
  * Ú-’ohenathon. Cí dadwenithon, ú-’ohenathon im – But I will not. If I go back, I will not forgive myself
  * mellon - friend



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it, Eletha can’t pluck up the courage to come back and say “I’m alive!” I hate myself!! :P But have no fear, Eletha will definitely reunite with her daughter in the future, maybe sometime before the big battle starts… ;) And, we are already halfway through this fanfic! My, does time fly by!


	19. A New Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil comes to the conclusion that Melda should be made Captain after Tauriel’s sudden departure. After a talk with Valpantiel, the King decides Tauriel’s punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY for not updating for SO long! Life has been hectic the last couple of months and I could never find the time to write but I have returned! And the golden-haired sisters have returned too! I’ve neglected them a bit so I needed to put them back into the story and make them important! Just over 8,500 words this time, I hope you enjoy it!

Frustrated was the word Thranduil would use to describe how he felt right now. He was not happy. It was way after dusk and the sun was just a sliver of light above the horizon. _They should be back by now._ But they were not. He waited and waited but they never returned. The King ate his dinner in silence, his daughter sitting opposite him. No words were spoken between the two and Calarel decided to go to her chambers. She wanted to go to sleep early. The princess could escape the real world in her dreams. They brought her joy. But Thranduil did not have that luxury.

His dreams encompassed all the negative things about his past and his future and everything else in between. He dreamt of war and loss, of death and sadness. He knew tonight would be the same. Tauriel was gone and so was Legolas. Thranduil had hoped his son could coax the Captain back to the palace but it was unsuccessful. He came to the resolution that the prince had gone with her instead of coming back on his own. Thranduil knew there was a chance that his son would go with Tauriel and that was what had happened. He knew his son very well. _He would rather go with her than let her go by herself. Because he loves her._ Legolas was now more in danger than he was before, which made Thranduil very worried. With each minute, they were getting closer and closer to Erebor. And closer and closer to Smaug.

He had already lost someone to a dragon’s wrath. He could not bear to lose two more people he cared for so deeply. _At least they are together._ That was the only positive thing Thranduil thought at that moment. Legolas and Tauriel could look after each other, as well as themselves. Then, he turned his attention to the red-haired Silvan Captain.

She had refused to comply with his most important order. The King only wanted to keep everybody in his realm safe. But Tauriel had gone off to save her precious Dwarf. It still sickened him that she had taken a liking to one of them. Thranduil did not care if he was the most attractive and sweetest Dwarf in Middle-Earth. He was still repulsed by them. He would never have thought Tauriel would be the one to take an interest in a Dwarf, when she knew how much he, the King, despised their race. But she had a habit of not obeying him. Eletha was the same. She had hated being ordered about and so did Tauriel. _No wonder my wife and Tauriel were close._ They were very much alike. The red-haired elleth had spent a lot of time with the Queen and many traits of the royal’s personality had rubbed off on her. He wondered where the two Elves were now. Had they reached the edge of Mirkwood yet? Were they heading to the Mountain? Or had they stopped in Laketown? Thranduil did not know. He only wished both of them were safe.

He loved Tauriel like a daughter. He became her father when she had lost her parents in Shinal nearly 700 years ago. Thranduil remembered when she hid herself behind him, her small fingers gripping his silver cape as he fought off the Orcs. Tauriel had been so vulnerable back then. She had become completely formidable and fierce, and also beautiful. But…she had done something wrong. And when that happened, punishment had to occur. Thranduil did not like it but it was a part of the law the Elves had put in place. The death penalty was out of the question. In no way could Thranduil stand there and order Tauriel’s execution. His family would never forgive him for that. Instead, he devised another punishment for the Captain. It was the best option.

_Tauriel has to be punished._

When he said those words in his head, Thranduil did not like it. He never thought he would even think those words. But he would have to say them soon. Tauriel’s departure had now provided Thranduil with a predicament. _The realm needs a new Captain._ There were two obvious choices of who should succeed Tauriel and they were the only two Elves that the King saw fit for the position. Tyaeron or Melda. He would have to ask both of them. Everyone in the palace knew now that both Tauriel and the prince had left. It was a secret Thranduil could not have kept. It would have been too difficult to hold back. Everyone would ask where they were and he could not just concoct up a lie. It would backfire on him. So everyone knew the truth.

It was not extremely late yet so the King had both the former Captain and the golden-haired elleth summoned to his chambers. He waited for them, sitting in the chair behind his desk, his red coat draped across the bed. He had one long leg thrown over the other and he tapped his shining rings with his fingers. It was approaching two minutes when he finally heard someone knock thrice on the double doors.

“Enter.”

The doors opened and Tyaeron appeared, Melda behind him. Both of them had been a little surprised that the King had summoned them. They wondered what the reason was. They were glad they were still dressed, considering they were both about to go to sleep together in Tyaeron’s chambers when a guard appeared at the door, telling them the King demanded their presence. Melda was dressed in black cotton leggings and a dark blue tunic with woodland embroidery down the sleeves and down the front. Knee-high leather boots encased her calves and her beautiful golden hair was loose apart from two small braids clipped together at the crown of her head, the ends falling to her waist. Tyaeron’s brown hair was also left out, a single braid weaved behind his head. His tunic was a plain deep green and leggings and boots completed his outfit. Both were dressed for battle if it arose at a moment’s notice. The elleth and the ellon addressed Thranduil like the loyal subjects they were and bowed their heads at him.

“ _‘Quel undome_ , _melloneamin_.” Thranduil uttered calmly. He was oddly calm. That was what both Tyaeron and Melda thought. They shared a glance before returning their gaze’s to the King.

“What do you wish of us, Your Grace?” Tyaeron asked, clasping his hands behind his back. Thranduil leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk, his ringed fingers lacing together.

“It is common knowledge here that Tauriel has left Mirkwood. Which leaves the Guard without a Captain.”

Melda did not need to ask the King to repeat his statement to understand the meaning behind his words. She was the last person who had seen Tauriel before the elleth with red hair ran out into the wilderland all by herself. She had tried to stop her but nothing she said or did made Tauriel change her mind. So Melda watched her disappear into the murky trees, her hair burning like a flame before being consumed by the forest. Melda was going to tell the King but Legolas had beaten her to it. And then, she discovered from Tyaeron that the prince had left too, on a mission to bring Tauriel back. Legolas and Tauriel had brought life to the palace but the halls were quiet now. The borders had been shut down and the watch had been doubled on both sides of the palace. The realm was closed off from the rest of the world. And even though it did not sit well with many of the Elves, including Melda, they had to accept it. Because it was their King’s order. They had to comply with it. He was not as forgiving as he used to be. Melda did not want to get on his bad side at this point in time.

“Are you insinuating that either Melda or I should be Captain?” Tyaeron asked, stepping forward. Melda looked at him and softly bit her bottom lip. The Guard could not remain Captain-less, she knew that. There would be no order within the Guard itself, apart from the external power of the King.

“Yes, that is what I am insinuating, Tyaeron.” Thranduil nodded. He knew the former Captain might not want to be Captain again. After all, Tyaeron had resigned from the position because he felt that Tauriel was up for the job more than he was, and he wanted to spend more time with his beloved. Or wife, considering they had already done have the deed. But whoever became Captain, their duties would make it difficult for them to see each other very often outside of their job, especially with the threat that had arisen. Thranduil wanted to make sure his realm and his people were secure and if a battle came to his halls, he and his soldiers would be ready. His gaze flickered to Melda who had not moved from where she was standing. Her hands were now clasped together in front of her, her eyes darting from either ellon. She caught the King’s gaze and her lips parted. _I know what he is suggesting._ She said to herself. Tyaeron followed the King’s gaze and he looked at the elleth he loved. Her violet eyes locked to his and he knew immediately what she was thinking. Melda looked back at the King. She was surprised, Thranduil could see that. He waited for her to speak. Both Tyaeron and the King were looking at her. Melda stepped forward, her hands falling away from each other, her arms now hanging by her sides.

“You mean you want _me_ to be Captain?”

A slight smirk came across Thranduil’s face, his crystalline eyes sparkling.

“Yes, I do.”

“What about Tyaeron?” She asked, placing a hand on her beloved’s arm. Thranduil looked at Tyaeron and raised his dark eyebrows. He raised a hand to him, gesturing for Tyaeron to answer the elleth’s question. The dark-haired ellon swallowed and glanced at his beloved with honest eyes.

“ _Melamin_ , I have been Captain already, before we were even together. I do not feel that it is right for me to be Captain again.”

Melda knew how great a Captain Tyaeron had been. His career had lasted for over 1,000 years and what a career it had been. He had led the Woodland Guard into many battles and his loyalty to the Elvenking was renowned throughout the world of Arda. Melda, along with everyone else, had been completely stunned when Tyaeron resigned. He was a fantastic Captain and was loved by all members of the Guard. She remembered the day in the main hall when the King announced that there was to be a new Captain. And that new Captain would be Tauriel. Melda’s mind had been split into two emotions. Shocked about her beloved’s decision to step down and delighted about the red-haired elleth’s ascension in position within the Guard. She had trained Tauriel for many years and had been one of the many Elves surprised by her talent and skill. Melda knew she would be a great Captain and would be a great role model for other ellith. It was a completely new thing. There had never been a female Captain before, let alone a Silvan one who had come from nothing. But Melda knew that the King did not care about that. It was the dexterity Tauriel had that was important. Her mind flashed back to when she had confronted Tyaeron that night and asked him why he had resigned.

 

_“Why, Tyaeron?”_

_They were in Tyaeron’s chambers, the Captain’s chambers; a gentle breeze came through the window. He removed his clothes from the wardrobe as her violet eyes watched him._

_“Melda, almost a millennia of being Captain is enough for me. I spent some of the best years of my life being Captain.”_

_“So why resign?” She asked. Tyaeron laid his tunics and leggings down on the large bed which was neatly made. Even though Tauriel’s initiation ceremony was not going to be for another week, he had already decided to clear out his belongings and move back into his old chambers. Fortunately, they were still free and were close to his beloved’s. Tyaeron sighed as he looked over his shoulder at Melda, a pair of his leather boots dangling from his hand._

_“Because my occupation has taken over my life. I could hardly make room for other things. You of all people know that.”_

_Melda stared at him. She did know what he meant. It had been weeks since he had touched her so intimately. A fleeting kiss was all she got nowadays. But she wanted him. She lusted for him. But Melda knew how important being Captain was to Tyaeron. She would not make him give up his position for her. The last thing she wanted to be was selfish. Tyaeron placed his boots on the floor before the bed and stepped up to Melda. She wore a beautiful halter neck gown the colour of pure white. A gold belt was secured around her waist and the hem fell to the floor. Her golden hair was pulled back in twists on either side of her head, long strands free in front of her delicately pointed ears. He laid his hands on her bare upper arms, her skin silky smooth beneath his fingers. Melda looked up at him, her hands fastened together in front of her._

_“I love you. And I want to spend forever with you. We hardly get to spend quality time together. My heart longs for your company every day. Do you not want that too?”_

_The corners of Melda’s lips turned up at his loving words. She had missed him greatly over the past few decades. Ever since the Queen perished at Gundabad, the King was adamant in protecting everyone within the palace and within his realm. The borders were patrolled day and night, every single hour and every single minute. The Guard and the soldiers were constantly busy. There had been times when Melda and Tyaeron did not see each other for days. It killed the both of them. Maybe now, they could spend quiet time with one another. Like they used to._

_“Of course I want that.” Melda whispered. The ellon smiled softly and moved his hands up, cupping her face gently. He ran his thumb over the apple of her pale cheek and she shivered at his touch. It had been so long since they had been this intimate. It made Melda’s heart soar. She raised her right hand and wrapped her fingers around Tyaeron’s left wrist. She wanted to stay in that moment forever. But evil brewed from the abandoned fortress on the outskirts of Mirkwood. Sickness consumed the forest and there was word of giant arachnids roaming the lands. It was no longer the happy and brilliant Greenwood Forest but it still was the Woodland Realm. The illness of the forest mirrored that of the one that was slowly swallowing the King. Melda had seen it. He was not the same. He had not been the same since Eletha’s death. He was still their beloved King but he was a vulnerable one. She dared to even think it, a scared King. His world was slowly falling apart and it made Melda truly upset that she still could spend time with her love while the King’s was gone and he was lost in an world without his wife. Melda was so caught up in her thoughts that she did not realise that Tyaeron was kissing her neck, one hand in her hair and the other arm locked around her waist. She bit her lip and rested one hand on his shoulder, the other one finding a spot at the back of his neck. It felt so good to feel his lips on her skin. They were soft and warmth, doing something down in her nether regions. But it was not the right time. Sure, Melda wanted him badly but not on this night._

_“Tyaeron.” She breathed. But Tyaeron did not stop. He kissed all the way up her neck, across her cheek before reaching her full lips. Melda kissed him back and she heard a lustful growl come from the back of his throat. He wanted her and she wanted him. But not right now. They had things to talk about._

_“Tyaeron. Not tonight.” Melda pulled back, licking her bottom lip and sighing. She rested her hands on his chest and looked at the floor. She did not like refusing him. They finally had time to do intimate things together. But discussion was upon them. Tyaeron knew she was upset about saying no but he loved her unconditionally. If she did not want to make love tonight, then so bet it. Maybe another time. He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up, locking his sea-green eyes to her violet ones._

_“I understand. We can wait.”_

_“Thank you, melamin.” She whispered with a smile. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, his fingers tightening in her long golden hair. When he broke away, she stared up at him with curiosity._

_“I must ask, did the King choose Tauriel to be the next Captain or did you?”_

_It was a question Tyaeron had seen coming. He pressed his lips together and let his left hand join his right arm, wrapping around her waist. He knew what lay beneath the soft white fabric. A body that was his to touch and caress, his to suck and kiss. He had kept his feelings hidden for Melda from everyone for a long time. He did not know where he would be without her. She was his light, his stars, his sun and his moon. She was everything to him. Tyaeron’s eyes flickered to her face and he answered her question._

_“I suggested Tauriel should be the Captain to the King. He agreed.”_

_Obviously. Melda said in her head._

_“He did not have a problem with her age? After all, she is not even 400 yet.”_

_“He was surprised, to say the least. Of course he was, and I believe still is, concerned about her age. We both know he loves Tauriel like a daughter. He is worried what is going to happen now. A female Captain of the Guard. Also a Silvan one who is little more than a child by our standards. She could get hurt.”_

_Melda gripped the collar of his tunic and took a small step closer so that they were almost chest-to-chest. Tauriel had a special place in both of their hearts. They still trained her every week and she was getting better and stronger. But she was so young. Yet she showed so much maturity and fierceness for someone of her tender age. Tauriel loved her home and the people that inhabited it. A fire burned in her green eyes but tonight, Melda had seen anxiety in those eyes when the elleth with red hair stepped up to the King in the hall. She had never seen Tauriel look so panicky and nervous. Melda felt a maternal love for Tauriel, seeing as she had known her since she was an elfling. Her parents were cruelly taken from her and she gained the love of everyone in the palace from the day she had arrived. A feeling of protection swelled in their hearts. Tonight, Melda saw that little girl. The look of alarm on her face. inside, deep down, Tauriel still was that elfling. Broken by the loss of her adar and naneth, clinging to the music and the magic of the Great Greenwood. Melda’s fingers stroked Tyaeron’s neck and he was soothed immediately by the brush of her fingers._

_“She will be fine, melamin. She may be Captain but we will protect her.” Melda whispered. Tyaeron nodded and she wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him into a hug. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she left her lover’s arms circle her back. Tyaeron pressed a kiss to her temple and held her close._

_“Yes, we will.”_

 

But Tauriel was gone. And there was nothing either of them could do. _Legolas will find her. He will. He will keep her safe._ Melda thought. She looked at the King who waited for a response. Both Thranduil and Tyaeron knew there was no-one better to assume the position of Captain. A female Captain would once again inspire the troops, especially the female ones. Her hand fell away from Tyaeron’s and she stepped up right in front of the desk, placing her right hand over her heart as a declaration of vow.

“If you wish for me to the Captain of the Guard, I swear I will do my best in doing my job. I am honoured you decided to choose me, Your Grace. I live to serve you.”

Tyaeron watched Melda with admiration. The realm was dark at this point in time so to have the responsibility of being Captain of the Elvenking’s Guard was extremely imperative. It was a hard thing to ask but he knew that Melda would do much good in a world that was fading from the light it once held.

Thranduil leaned back in his seat, his fingers unlocking from each other. His hands dropped over the arms of his seat as a gentle smile came across his lips. But it did not reach his eyes. Melda was like a sister to him, just like she had been to Eletha. It was precarious putting her in the front lines if a battle was to arise. He had lost too much already. He could not lose anyone else.

“Good. There will be no need for a ceremony. You may tell the soldiers the news on the morrow.” He declared. Both the golden-haired elleth and thee brown-haired ellon knew that the King’s statement was their cue to leave. They bowed their heads and left the chambers together.

When the doors closed, Thranduil rose from his seat and glided around the edge of his desk. His fingers circled the neck of the glass wine bottle and lifted it off the wood. An empty golden goblet sat there innocently and his nostrils inhaled the smell of the sweet alcohol. He longed to take a sip. The day had not been good, Tauriel leaving without an explanation and sending his son to bring her back. But it ended on a high note, with Melda agreeing to be the new Captain. Thranduil believed in her. Her skills sometimes had been as good as his, maybe even better. _Eletha would be proud of her._ He thought with a smile.

The King poured the wine into the goblet halfway and took a gulp. The taste of it was unparalleled to anything else. Oropher had been a drinker as well, though he had been a more closest alcoholic. Thranduil knew his people knew he liked his wine. But to that, he always said “Don’t we all?” He moderated his consumption now, for he knew Eletha did not want him to drink himself to oblivion every night. He did not want to either. He had a realm to look after and thousands of citizens to protect. He finally understood the words his father had said to him so long ago when he was still a prince.

_You will succeed me, ion-nin. But understand if you do have a Queen ruling by your side, you will still be lonely. To be a King is to be alone._

Even though Thranduil had his advisors and his counsellors, his soldiers and his loved ones, he still felt lonely. He was a King of a sickened land and something evil was stirring in the fortress of Amon Lanc. The Dark Lord had returned. But he would not gain full control over Middle-Earth. Until he had the One Ring. By accounts, it had been lost, flowed out to sea, never to be found again. Thranduil hoped it would remain lost for all time.

He lowered his goblet and placed it down on the desk. He looked down at his hand and fiddled with his wedding ring. He never took it off, ever. It reminded him of the love he and his wife had once shared. _The dead do not need lovers._ A voice in his head whispered. His lips contorted in anger and his eyes flashed with darkness. _I know. But I will forever love her._ Thranduil wished she was still here and alive, counselling caution beside him. He wished that every day and every night. The situation regarding Tauriel entered his mind again. He did not know what to do if Legolas returned with her. She had committed treason. She had violated his orders. She had to pay the price of doing so. _Eletha would know what to do._ But Eletha was not there. However, there was another elleth he could go and talk to. Someone he trusted completely. Thranduil knew she would be in the healing chambers at this time of night. So he drained the goblet and left his chambers, the sound of his boots echoing around the palace.

 

**

 

It had been a busy day in the healing chambers. Valpantiel had worked tirelessly for hours, healing and treating the Guard members’ wounds and injuries. Fortunately, they were all minor but she had stayed there all day. She did not even leave to have dinner because she needed to clean up the chambers. She was just stacking the newly-washed cloths into a neat pile on the shelf when she heard a deep voice say her name.

“Lady Valpantiel.”

She turned around and saw the King standing in the doorway, dressed in a long black tunic and black leggings. His leather boots were also black and his head was devoid of any ornamentations. The light from the palace surrounded his figure, making his pale hair glow gold. Valpantiel took hold of the skirt of her blue gown in both and curtsied, bowing her head at the same time.

“Your Grace.”

“May I come in?” He asked.

“Of course, Your Grace. I am almost done. Give me a moment.” Valpantiel said, turning back around and fixing the pile of cloths, making sure that none of them would fall to the floor.

“Take all the time you need, my Lady.” Thranduil responded as he walked into the healing chambers. There was no evidence that there had been many Guards members here. Everything was so clean and neat. Not one bloodied cloth or a moaning Elf. Nothing. It occurred to Thranduil that Valpantiel was the only healer still here. She still was his personal healer and the best one in his service. She liked her job and she wanted to do it right. He then heard a sound, a rumble, that sounded oddly like a stomach begging for food. The King knew he was not hungry so he turned to look at the golden-haired elleth. She had her back facing him so he saw that her hair had been pulled back in two thick braids on either side of her head, four all together, and joined with two silver hair clasps. It was to keep her hair out of her face when she worked which Thranduil thought was a valid reason to do so.

“My Lady, have you eaten at all today?”

Valpantiel’s hands froze on the pile of clean white cloths. She had not eaten anything for hours because she had been busy. Even when the other healers brought her some food, she had shooed them away. Thranduil recalled that she had not been at dinner. He had not seen her. _So she has been down there this whole time?_ The battle with the Orcs had been in the morning. It was now an hour past dusk. Valpantiel lowered her hands and turned her head to the side, her eyes lowered. She could not look at him when she answered his question.

“No, Your Grace. Not since dawn.”

Thranduil was no short of shocked. Anger was not his emotion. It was disbelief. Valpantiel had not eaten anything because she wanted to treat the Guard for their injuries. A kind soul, Valpantiel was, with a heart of gold that no-one had captured yet. She could fight but was more soft than Melda. Thranduil could have a conversation with her more easily than with her older sister. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.

“Vally, you must eat! You must be starving!” He cried. Valpantiel turned around to face him and shook her head.

“I am fine, my King.” At that moment, her stomach rumbled again. Her lips parted to say something else but she could not find the right words. A smirk curled on Thranduil’s lips.

“Your stomach says otherwise. Come, we will eat in my chambers.” He said. It was not an offer or a suggestion. It was not a command either. It was a desire to dine with a loved one. The King turned away and walked in the direction of the large door.

“Your Grace…” Valpantiel said. He stopped at the doorway and turned to the side to look at her. She had not moved from her spot, her arms hanging by her sides.

“I am fine. I will eat on my own.”

“Nonsense. I have to speak to you about something. Might as well do it over a meal.” Thranduil retorted. Valpantiel smiled at that as she took off her healer’s white overall, untying it from around her waist. She hung it up on a hook with the other overalls and she walked over to the King. He held out his arm to her and slid her one into his, resting her hand around his elbow.

They walked to Thranduil’s chambers in silence. It was quiet in the palace. Valpantiel saw only a handful of Elves still roaming the paths and walkways. The sound of the waterfalls was calming, crashing over the rocks with a beauty that matched the Elves. Tiredness suddenly hit her. The procedures of the day had taken their toll on her. Images of white skin and bleeding wounds flashed before her eyes. It made her feel good when the members of the Guard arose from their beds, fully healed with their eyes sparkling with gratitude. It was the best part of the job.

It had been a while since she had been to dine with the King in his chambers. Sometimes, she, her sister and Tyaeron ate with him and Calarel because he could not stand to be alone, no more alone than he already was. Thranduil let Valpantiel walk into his chambers first and as she did so, he ordered one of the guards outside the chamber doors to tell Maeklin to bring two bowls of food to him immediately. The guard rushed off and Thranduil walked inside to join the golden-haired elleth. Whenever Valpantiel went inside, wealth seemed to drip from the curtains and the bed sheets spoke softness. The King walked past her and tidied up the sheets of parchment that lay across his desk, placing them neatly into the drawers.

“What is for dinner then?” Valpantiel asked curiously.

“Chicken and vegetable soup, I believe. Is that alright?”

“That is quite alright, Your Grace. Winter is almost upon us after all. Time for warm food.” Valpantiel smiled, rubbing her hands together. The sleeves of her gown were not pointed and the ends of them were firmly attached around her wrists. Extravagant attire did not suit her occupation. The only time she wore such lavish clothes was when there were festivals or special celebrations. It was true. In two days, the season of Winter would begin. Snow would blanket the ground and warm robes and tunics would be worn by the residents of the Woodland Realm. There was already a chill in the air but it was not the source of the shivers that swam down the King’s spine. The prophecy lurked deep in his mind. He and Legolas had spoken that prophecy only just today. He hoped his son would be back by then. Otherwise, disastrous things would occur, with Legolas and Tauriel right in the middle. Thranduil was just placing the last bottle of ink in the bottom drawer when Valpantiel spoke.

“You said you wanted to speak to me about something.”

He looked at her and rested his palms flat against his desk. Her blue eyes, like that of a clear Summer sky, were staring into him as she waited with bated breath.

“Yes, I did. Pull up a chair, my Lady. Let us talk.” Thranduil declared, gesturing to a chair, much less lavish than his own, that sat next to the full-length mirror on the other side of the chambers. Valpantiel went over and picked it up. She carried it back to the desk and placed its legs on the stone floor, its sound echoing around. She did not why the King wanted to speak with her. Valpantiel knew that both Tauriel and Legolas had gone but she did not know why. _Was someone hurt? Have I done something wrong?_ Even though the King was like a brother to her, she had always been intimidated by talking to him, even just being in his presence daunted her. But behind his strong figure and powerful mind was an ellon with one of the kindest hearts and a beautiful personality. Much of his previous sympathetic demeanour had disappeared. Only rays of it peeked through the cracks of his shattered soul from time to time. That kind heart was broken and it would forever be broken. But that did not mean he was incapable of love and devotion and affection. His treatment of Melda and Valpantiel never changed. And because of that, Valpantiel saw the happy ellon she observed when the Queen had been breathing.

She folded her gown underneath her and sat down on the chair, resting her hands in her lap. For much of the day, her hands had been wet and sticky with blood. She could still smell its irony stench, invading her nostrils. The wind blew through the open balcony and washed the smell of blood away, clean fresh air soothing her, ruffling her long hair down her back.

Thranduil also sat down and pulled his chair closer, resting his interlocked fingers on the desk. He looked worried and it never faded from his piercing eyes. Valpantiel swallowed and sat up straight, her back resting at the chair.

“Tauriel is gone and the prince has left to find her. I assume you know that?” The King asked. Valpantiel nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Due to that, I have appointed your sister as the Captain of the Guard.”

Valpantiel’s eyebrows shot up above her bright eyes. But she was not surprised or shocked. She was proud. After all, Melda was her big sister. She had looked up to her since birth. There was a time when Valpantiel wanted to be like Melda. Strong and fierce, deadly with beautiful Elvish weapons. But when she first learned of how her father had died, she decided taking part in warfare was not her thing. But healing people during and after wars was something that appealed her. Her mother taught her the basics first off when she looked like a young mortal teenage girl and her love for being a healer took off from there. It was when Valpantiel talked to the King one time that she realised being a healer was only something a strong person could do. She told him about Melda and how she wanted to be deadly like her, to which Thranduil responded with words Valpantiel would never forget.

_You are strong. You have strength of a different kind, my Lady. You do not need to hold a weapon to be strong. Always remember that._

Whenever she doubted herself, Valpantiel remembered those words. They made her feel strong. Never had she been jealous of Melda. Valpantiel was very close to her sister. Joined at the hip, some said. Pride for Melda flooded her heart. _She deserves the position._ For years, Melda had fought to protect the people she loved. She served her King loyally. A smile pulled at Valpantiel’s lips.

“She is a great choice, my King. I am very proud of her.”

“And I am sure your mother would be too. She is proud of both of you.” Thranduil nodded. His own smile barely lasted two seconds. The complication arose in his mind and he sighed, flames flickering silhouettes on his pale face. Valpantiel’s smile faded. _Something is wrong._ There was regret in the King’s eyes. He looked repentant. _Why?_ That was the only word in the elleth’s mind. Thranduil was just about to speak when there was a knock on the double doors.

“Ah, dinner is served. Come in.”

The doors opened and Maeklin walked in with a servant behind him. The steward held a tray with two steaming bowls of fresh soup on it and the servant carried a plate of sliced bread with a small dish of garlic butter. The two ellyn placed the food down on the desk and within moments, they exited the chambers, leaving the King and the healer on their own again.

Valpantiel pulled her chair closer to the desk and grabbed one of the two spoons along with a bowl of soup. She could see the vegetables of carrot, onion and celery in the liquid with small chunks of chicken floating around. It smelt so good and it immediately had Valpantiel salivating. Thranduil took the other spoon and bowl of soup, twisting the silver spoon in his long fingers. Valpantiel looked at him. Her eyes asked the question “May I eat?” Thranduil did not why she would even ask. He could see she was hungry. He waved his other hand at her and nodded at her with a gentle smile. She did not hesitate. Her spoon went straight into the bowl and quickly placed it in her mouth. The hot liquid made her close her eyes. The soup tasted even better than it smelt. The King managed to suppress a chuckle at the way the elleth began to devour the steaming hot bowl of soup.

“Do not eat it _too_ fast, Valpantiel. I would not want you to throw up in twenty minutes.” He smirked, placing a spoonful of the soup in his own mouth. Valpantiel stopped eating and looked at the King. She smiled and slowly grabbed a napkin from the tray, wiping her mouth and chin. The hunger in her stomach subsided each time she sipped the soup, chewing the chunks of chicken.

“As I was going to say, now Melda is Captain, Tauriel must face the consequences of her actions.” Thranduil said. Valpantiel reached over and picked up the knife on the tray. Her fingers found a slice of bread and she began to spread the garlic butter over it.

“I agree.” She nodded.

“I am thinking about banishing her.” The King declared.

Valpantiel almost dropped the knife. It was a miracle the blade did not slice open her fingers. She managed to get a good grip on the knife. Her eyes went to the King, their clear blue colour as bright as ever. Her eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. Not a minute ago, she was smiling and her heart was happy. Now, her heart had frozen over with fear and worry and shock. Valpantiel lowered the knife back onto the tray but kept the buttered bread in her hand. She slumped back in her seat, her eyelashes flashing as she blinked continuously. Her first reaction was to say “WHAT?!” But that seemed like a bad idea. Instead, she pressed her lips together sternly and shook her head.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I advise you not to do that. Do not even consider it.”

Thranduil knew the conversation would twist down a dark path. One where his personal healer would not agree with his decision. His appetite had disappeared into nothing. Fortunately, he had finished most of his soup. The elleth’s bowl was still steaming a little bit but she did not touch it. Valpantiel almost crushed the soft bread in between her fingers. To avoid that happening, she dunked it into the soup and left it there to get all soggy. _Banish Tauriel? What would Legolas say? He would not be happy._ She thought. The King thought the same thing. The prince would completely tear himself away from his father if the elleth he loved was exiled from the Woodland Realm. _All her talent…gone to waste…_ Valpantiel’s thoughts trailed off. While Tauriel had flair in fighting and combat, she was also quite experienced in the art of healing. Valpantiel had taught her many things. Not only would the realm lose Tauriel’s skills, it would lose her fire. Her personality and her magical mind. Clinging to what the forest once was. Thranduil dreaded it. He really did. _But do I have any other option?_

“I do not like it any more than you do, Valpantiel. But I have to consider it. I am the King. I have to do cogitate these sorts of matters whether I want to or not.”

The golden-haired elleth sat forward and slid her bowl of soup to the side. She rested her forearms on the desk and tapped the wood a few times with her delicate fingers.

“Do not banish her, Thranduil. Striping her of her titles would be a better sentence.”

The King sighed and ran a hand over his forehead, rubbing it in frustration. He wished there was something else he could do. Everything had started to fall apart around him, like he was standing in the middle of his forest as it burned with fire around him. He could feel the heat and it stung him. The pain on the left-hand side of his face flashed up and he sucked in a breath. It hurt too much. His body hurt. His heart hurt. He loved Tauriel. He always had. She was a daughter in his eyes. But he had to put away his personal feeling in a matter like this. This was for his realm.

“I thank you for your advice, my Lady, but I do not have a choice.” Thranduil said.

“Yes, you do. You are the _King_. You can do what you like.” Valpantiel fought back.

“I cannot let her go unpunished.”

“I know that. But do not send her away. Tauriel is devoted to you.”

“Obviously, she is not. Otherwise, she would not have disobeyed my orders.” The King snapped.

“Yes, she is. The only reason she left was because she could not handle hiding behind the walls of this palace. We all know Tauriel has a fire in her. She wanted to use that for good. That opportunity arose and she took it. Can you blame her?”

“Yes, I can! She went after a _Dwarf_! Our mortal enemies! How could she do that?” Thranduil growled. Valpantiel pressed her lips together. She knew of the red-haired elleth’s talks with a young Dwarf down in the dungeons. Tauriel had told her about them because Valpantiel was the only one she trusted to keep it a secret. Tauriel told her about the Dwarf’s stories. Where he had been, what he loved, what he longed for. Valpantiel did not share the same animosity for Dwarves that the King had. She did not believe that all Dwarves should be accountable for the actions of one kingdom. The Dwarves she had met in previous years were no short of kind, especially the young ones and the old ones. Trade with Erebor had once flourished. The relations with the Dwarves there had been good. But as soon as the Arkenstone had been found, everything went downhill. Tauriel had explained to Valpantiel that the young Dwarf was one of Thorin Oakenshield’s nephews; therefore he was in line to the throne of Erebor. Tauriel saw nothing wrong with him. Just a kind-hearted Dwarf she could call a friend. But Valpantiel did not want to tell Thranduil all of that. She could not betray Tauriel’s trust. Especially not now.

“I am sure she has her reasons, _aran-nin_.” Was all she could say. Thranduil fumed and his nostrils flared. A darkness swept over his eyes, an edge of fury glowing in his bright irises.

“ _Reasons_?! Like what?”

“Calm down, Your Grace. Look, say you banish Tauriel. Then, how would Legolas react? I think he might go with her.” Valpantiel said. Thranduil knew there was a chance that something like that could happen. His son, running off with the elleth with long red hair, out into the world. Just the two of them. _No, I do not want to lose my son. I cannot lose him._ What Tauriel had done brought up severe consequences. And what he would do in regards to Tauriel’s punishment would have even more grave consequences. One of them being not having a relationship with his son. Valpantiel saw sadness flash across the King’s face.

“He will not leave everyone here.” He whispered.

“He loves her.”

“I will not allow him to go with her.”

“He will not listen to you. Love conquers all, my King.” Valpantiel stated. Thranduil looked at her after she said the last sentence. _Love conquers all._ Her statement had truth to it. The love he felt for Eletha, the love he still felt for her, had been known throughout the world of Arda. Tales of his love for his Queen reached the ears of other Elves, Men and Dwarves, all across the land. The love she had borne for him had brought him back to life. But it was not the same in reverse. One moment had changed everything in his heart. _But what did Valpantiel know of love?_ No-one loved anyone more than Thranduil loved Eletha. Valpantiel knew he wanted to ask her that question so she answered it for him.

“I may not know how to love someone as much as you loved Eletha. But I do know what it is. It is putting someone else’s needs before your own. It is doing what is right not for yourself but for someone else. I do not have a lover but I have a family that I love.”

Thranduil just stared at her. Her counsel had always been words he could trust. Valpantiel always wanted to help people. It was not just a part of her job. It was a part of her life. It brought happiness to her heart. The Elvenking, the brother she never had, sat opposite her, his face as vacant as stone. She reached her arm out across the desk and placed her hand on his wrist.

“I love Melda. I love my mother. I love my father, even though I never knew him. I love Tyaeron. I love Legolas. I love Calarel. I love Tauriel. I love Eletha. I love you, Thranduil. I do my job to keep you, and everyone else I love, from harm.”

The food had been forgotten. The crackles of the flamed torches matched the cool wind blowing in from the balcony behind Valpantiel. She tilted her head to the side and tapped his wrist to get a response out of him.

“I know.” Thranduil murmured.

“I know you know. Banishing Tauriel will not do anything good for anyone. Your son would never forgive you. And you know that Eletha would say the same thing I am saying. You know that.”

Thranduil did know that. _My wife would also advise against banishing Tauriel?_ His mind was split in two. One half said to banish Tauriel and the other half said to not banish her. He did not know what to do. The King placed his hand over Valpantiel’s and nodded at her. He closed his eyes and looked down at his lap. The elleth could see he was struggling to make a decision. There was nothing more she could say. Valpantiel tried to remove her hand but the King tightened his fingers around hers. She looked up and found herself staring into his crystalline blue eyes.

“ _Diola lle_ , Vally. For your counsel.”

She smiled when he called her by her nickname. Her mind flashed back to her first meeting with him, when he had been a prince and Oropher ruled as King. Thranduil’s hand fell away from hers and she nodded at him, her sky blue eyes sparkling like light sapphires.

“ _Lle creoso_ , Thranduil. Thank you for dinner. _‘Quel du_.” And with a bow of the head, she left the chambers. Valpantiel now had a full belly and was ready for bed. But her sleep tonight would not be pleasant. She knew that. She decided she would see her sister tomorrow and congratulate her on her new position. And they would discuss the King’s thoughts. And what harm his actions could cause.

 

It was past midnight and Thranduil was still awake. His chambers were dark apart from the moonlight that streamed inside, the stone floor glowing brightly. It had taken him hours but he had made a decision. It had not been an easy one but he believed it was the best one.

He still sat at his desk, one long leg thrown over the other. He reached up to the collar of his tunic and unclipped the brooch from its place. Thranduil held it in his hands, the moonlight making the amber stone in the centre shine a deep orange. The brooch had belonged to his father and he had passed it over to him when he had died. Thranduil remembered that day. The sky was grey and bodies of Elves and Orcs littered the dirty landscape. Oropher had laid there, down on the dirt, blood covering his neck and mouth, a large stab wound oozing blood from his chest. He had shakingly taken off the brooch and placed it in his only son’s hand, pressing it into his palm.

_Look after the land, Thranduil. Make me proud, my vigorous spring._

_Have I made him proud?_ That was the question. The brooch was cold on his skin. It had once been held in Eletha’s hands, when she had returned it to him. Their first meeting. What a day that had been. Thranduil still remembered it. It had been one of the best days of his life when he laid his eyes on her. He tried to imagine what it would be like if she was here now. _She would not like it if I banished Tauriel. She would be furious that I even considered the idea of it._ But Eletha was not here. She was dead and there was nothing she could do anymore to help him. The Elvenking had made his choice. And he knew no-one would like it.

 

Elvish Translations

  * ‘Quel undome – Good evening
  * melloneamin – my friends
  * Melamin – My love
  * adar – father
  * naneth – mother
  * aran-nin – my King
  * Diola lle – Thank you
  * Lle creoso – You’re welcome
  * ‘Quel du – Good night



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was quite fun to write, despite its difficulty, so I hope you readers enjoyed it :) If you guys have any thoughts/speculation on what might happen next, hit me! I hope someone out there is still reading this...


	20. Esgaroth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel and Legolas arrive in Laketown and a fight emerges between them and the Orcs of Gundabad. Tauriel is reunited with Kili as Legolas heads out to follow the Orcs to their stronghold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the extremely slow updates! It’s been hard to write this story for some reason but I did my best. A heads up, this chapter is quite action and dialogue heavy (7,000+ words) but I hope you guys still like it :)

The last day of Autumn had fallen. It was late evening when the town of the Long Lake was only mere miles away. The dark sky was covered in grey clouds, blocking out many of the twinkling stars. Tauriel stopped on a precipice, her bow still gripped in her hand. She could see muted golden light in between the houses on the water. The clear water was black and the moonlight streamed through the clouds, reflecting off the surface of the Lake. It was a beautiful sight. One Tauriel had never seen before. _Is Kili there?_ That was the only question going through her mind. She remembered the Orc’s words, telling her that the young Dwarf would be choking on the poison in his blood. _Am I too late to save him? To keep that sparkle in his eyes alive?_ Despite knowing of his jealousy, Tauriel was glad that Legolas was with her. it was just like old times. Just the two of them venturing out together into the forest. But they were way past the forest now. They were beyond the realm of Mirkwood, going into the world that was threatened by an evil darkness. Fire flashed in her mind as she thought of the home she had left behind. She imagined the forest on fire, burning bright, tongues of bright orange flame licking the foliage and trees as the citizens, her people, her Silvan brothers and sisters, screamed.

Her gaze went to the left and see saw the Lonely Mountain. A single solitary peak, a circle of misty clouds floating around it. She knew what stirred within it. A great serpent that breathed fire and flew great distances. A fearsome creature with claws like spears and scales as thick and tough as iron itself. What slept beneath a mountain of gold was Smaug the Dragon. Tauriel had read about dragons and knew a lot about them. She had never seen one and had never planned or wanted to see one. The destruction they could cause was like nothing else. Torrents of fire attacking people and their homes, literally reducing everything to ash in its path. Her own King bore the symbols of what a single dragon could do. Sinew and bone visible, perfect skin turning into pure pink muscle. The Queen, who Tauriel had looked up and loved dearly, had been taken away by a ball of dragonflame, gone forever, turned into nothing. She did not want to meet her end in that way. Tauriel was a soldier and a warrior. She anticipated in falling in battle at some point but she did not want to die from a dragon’s fire. She was dangerously close to being consumed in that way. _Have the Dwarves reached the Mountain yet? Have they awoken the dragon?_ The not-knowing was even more terrible than knowing. It frightened her. There were people who lived in Laketown. Innocent people. Human life was precious. Tauriel could not believe that a civilisation of mortals lived so close to the Mountain, so close to a dragon’s wrath that could one day be awoken. _Kili could be there. I have to try._ She told herself and rolled her shoulders back, the gentle wind blowing her bright red hair over her shoulders.

“Tauriel.”

The prince’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. She turned around to see him standing a few metres away, his pale blonde hair glowing silver in the moonlight. Legolas was a perfect ellon. Beautiful and strong. Attractive features and a fierce personality. However, his eyes, that had once held so much magic, were now fraught with callous emotions mixed with envy. Tauriel sometimes wished she could love Legolas the way he loved her. But her heart had its own ideas on the matter. The ellon that stood before her was someone she would always love, as a friend, as a brother. She knew Legolas did not like the affection she felt for Kili but Tauriel could not control her feelings. And even if she could, she would not change anything about her emotions. _Why should I? Why should I change because he is a prince?_ In Tauriel’s eyes, Legolas was not a prince. He was a friend, a fellow warrior, a brother. _Why can’t he just accept that? For me?_ She stepped forward and walked past Legolas. The prince watched as the elleth he loved began her descent down the side of the hill. He followed her, his own bow in his left hand. For decades, Legolas had grappled with the affairs of his heart. He had always imagined that love was a beautiful thing. But a rejected love was something else entirely. His heart beated with love and shattered with pain at the same time. He just could not understand why Tauriel had taken such an interest in a Dwarf. A young one at that who was also of the line of Durin. _Why him if she could have me?_ Legolas would do anything for her. _Maybe my decision to come with her will be my chance to show her how much I truly love her._ He said to himself. Legolas thought of his father. _He will be worried that I have not returned. What punishment will await me when I go back?_ The truth is he did not know. Legolas had just started to call his father _Adar_ again and now, he had gone off, completely disobeying the orders Thranduil had given him. But Legolas knew his mother would have been the one to push him to go out into the world and make a difference. _She would have done so too._ It was the colour of Tauriel’s hair that made him snap back into reality. She had reached the bottom of the hill and he stood by her side a few seconds later. His gaze went out to Laketown. They were closer now.

“How long will it take to get there?” Tauriel asked. Legolas looked at her but she did not return his gaze, although she could feel his eyes on her.

“I do not know. About half-an-hour, I would say.”

That was good enough for Tauriel. She walked forward, her pale skin and long red locks shining perfectly in the moon’s light. Legolas saw the fear in her green eyes but it was not the fear of dying from a dragon’s wrath. It was the fear of the young Dwarf perishing. _Why does she care? What is one dead Dwarf?_ Legolas did not want to ask that out loud, in terror he would sound exactly like the King, the very person Tauriel had run away from. But he had to ask something. He had to know why. Why a Dwarf of all people.

The prince walked by her side and opened his mouth to speak.

“Tauriel, I need to ask you something.”

“I know what you need, or want, to ask.” The elleth sighed. Tauriel knew a conversation like this would come at some point. She did not want to lie. It was a conversation she had dreaded ever since the prince had confronted her down in the Elven dungeons. Nonetheless, it was not something she could walk away from. It would make things worse if she did.

“You do?” Legolas raised his eyebrows. Tauriel glanced at him, her green eyes pale from the moonlight.

“Of course I know, Legolas. How could I not?”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Indeed you were.” Tauriel looked away, back out to their destination but Legolas kept his gaze on her.

“Why, Tauriel? Why a Dwarf?” He asked. The red-haired elleth briefly closed her eyes and let out another sigh. Her fingers tightened on her bow and her quiver, filled with arrows, bumped against her left thigh as she walked. The question hit Tauriel harder than she had anticipated. _Why indeed? What is it about Kili that draws me to him?_ She believed that the young Dwarf’s fiery spirit mirrored her own. Both were fearless, reckless and brave. Both had the desire to explore the world outside their homeland. Tauriel’s home, the palace and the forest, had changed so significantly to the point that she did not recognise it anymore. She did not recognise her King anymore. He was the one who had saved her from death and raised her into the magical elleth and killing machine she was today. The King was monstrous to her, even though she did not want to think of him that way. His son, who now walked beside her, had inherited some of the King’s attributes but thankfully, to her, not all of them. However, when Legolas had spoken to her, the Elvenking’s voice had come out.

“Do you want to know the truth, Legolas?” Tauriel asked, coming to a halt. The prince stopped in his tracks too and came around to stand in front of her. He did not want her to run away from a question as big as the one he had asked her. He would not let her. Legolas did not acknowledge Tauriel with a response. He just stared at her, his eyes like piercing blue blades.

“The truth is…I do not know why.” Tauriel said confidently, her green eyes burning deep into Legolas’s soul. Even though she fought against him, his attraction for her only grew. That was what he liked about her. She was not soft all the time. Tauriel saw a shred of doubt swim across the prince’s face so she narrowed her eyes at him and justified herself further.

“I do not why I followed Kili. If you were ever my friend, Legolas, you would believe me.”

The blonde-haired ellon drank in Tauriel’s words. They punched him in the gut. He was glad he was by her side now. He could not imagine her going out as far as Laketown by herself. It was too dangerous, even for an elleth as tough as her. Legolas did want to believe her and he did. But he was suspicious that she was keeping something from him. Tauriel was entitled to privacy. She was allowed to not divulge what happened in her personal life and Legolas respected that. But there had to be a much deeper reason than “I do not know” to go after someone ( _especially a **Dwarf**_! He thought.) with the plan to save their life from a poisoning wound. Even though he did not want to admit it, Legolas was jealous of a Dwarf.

“What if the Orc lied?”

“What do you mean?” Tauriel’s eyebrows creased over her glittering eyes.

“About the…Dwarf’s wound. You should not believe any words that come out of an Orc’s mouth.”

“Your father did. He shut down the palace and closed off the borders straight after the interrogation.” Tauriel pointed out. It only took Legolas a second to realise she had stated a fact. He lowered his eyes to the ground while Tauriel kept her eyes to the prince’s face. The ellon she had grown up with and counted as one of her closest confidants. But as soon as Tauriel took an interest in a male that was not him, he was not exactly happy. _Well, tough._ She thought. It was not her fault. But Tauriel was grateful that it had been Legolas who had come after her and not the King himself. That would have been one hell of a confrontation. She remembered the way the Orc spat its words out, aimed directly at her, as his eyes burned a fierce bright orange. Tauriel would have loved to sever its head from its shoulders. Nothing would have given her greater satisfaction.

“Why would the Orc lie? He had no reason to.” The elleth said. Legolas raised his eyes and they were huge with disbelief.

“He had _every_ reason to lie, Tauriel! That was why he did it. His mission was to get under your skin and he did.”

Tauriel knew he was telling the truth. The Orc had wanted to anger her. He had wanted to get her all riled up so the King could stop her. She pressed her lips together and brushed past him, their shoulders touching briefly. She began to walk again in the direction of Laketown, the moonlight reflecting on the water’s surface. Legolas caught up with her and looked at her with serious eyes.

“You cannot run away from this, Tauriel. The Orc _wanted_ you to leave the palace. My father believes we are going to our death.”

“Your father knows you will return to him. Me, on the other hand, he does not care anymore. Otherwise, he would have stopped me.”

Legolas could not believe what he was hearing. _How could she think that? That my father wants her to perish?_ He recalled the look of fear in his father’s eyes when he had told him that Tauriel had left the palace. The knuckles of the King’s hands had gone white and his long fingers had gripped his staff a little too hard.

“Tauriel, how can you say that? My father loves you.”

“Does he? He has not shown me love for many years.” The elleth responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Tauriel remembered a time when she had a very close relationship with Thranduil. She, for centuries, had adored him, looked up to him, loved him. He became her father. But when his world came crashing down, he had changed along with the destruction of his home. It saddened Tauriel to see him like this. It was not him. He was full of greed and had become insensitive. _Where is the love in him?_ She believed it had disappeared from him the day Queen Eletha was killed. She knew it was a valid reason to become so enclosed but to shut himself and his people out of the world and let it do its own thing was not what Tauriel thought was right. People shaped Middle-Earth and if all the people were locked inside, Middle-Earth would not grow. Tauriel did not want to hide while the world she loved died before her very eyes. _How is that moral?_

“Give him the benefit of the doubt. He has been through a lot.” Legolas said but Tauriel hardly heard him. Her sharp eyes caught something ahead. It was a bunch of figures, all gathered together in a group, moving across the bridge that connected Laketown to the mainland. She completely ignored Legolas and began to run, her long hair flying out like a red curtain behind her.

“Tauriel!” She heard the prince call but she did not respond. She let her legs run as fast as they could, her feet hitting the ground so infrequently that it felt more like flying. Legolas stared after her before his eyes followed what she was looking at. The movement of the group made it obvious for him to decipher what creatures they were. Stumpy and all together. There was only one race that did that in Middle-Earth.

Orcs.

 

**

 

The first thing Tauriel heard were screams. They belonged to a young girl, no doubt. She headed in the direction of the screams, her pointy ears pricking up for any sort of sound. The town was almost deserted apart from guards that she spotted now and then. Everyone else were in their homes, dim lights in the homemade windows. Laketown was a totally different environment than the Woodland Realm. The people who lived on the Long Lake were poor and could just keep themselves alive. Every time Tauriel took a step, the wood beneath her feet creaked. This was just one of the many places that Men inhabited but the first for Tauriel to see.

She heard a loud crash in the house to her left. The ice that floated in the black water made her spine shiver and she was grateful she was wearing three layers. She rushed across the bridge and reached the bottom of a set of rickety stairs. Her bow would be no use so she dropped it and ran up to the doorway. An Orc just hopped over the railing but it never ended the house. Because Tauriel stabbed it with her dagger she had drawn only a moment before. The Orc squealed and fell back, landing with a splash in the water below. Tauriel took in the house for just a second but a second was enough time.

About half-a-dozen Orcs filed the house, wreaking havoc and growling, throwing themselves in from the ceiling which now had holes in it. Tauriel saw three children. There were two girls, trying their best to hide in the corner of the house, gripping each other’s hands tightly. _Now I know who screamed._ Tauriel said to herself. The young boy, on the other hand, was defending himself. He was trying his best, flipping a table in an Orc’s face. She saw three Dwarves, two of which she did not know the names of. There was one Dwarf lying on the bed but his dark eyes were full of fear. _Kili._ She thought. He looked dead already. His hair was matted and his skin was extremely pale. He was not the Dwarf who got her attention down in the dungeons. One of the girl’s screams brought Tauriel back and she drew her other dagger, her eyes burning.

The elleth was ruthless, merciless as she spun with precision, her sharp weapons cutting into the fleshy Orcs. She was onto another one before her previous victim fell to the floor. The sound of metal meeting skin was disgusting but to Tauriel, it was the best sound. It meant she had done her job. Her hair flew around her like a fire every time she moved, falling over her shoulders as she pounced at another enemy.

At that moment, Legolas jumped in from the ceiling. It was chaos. The main table had fallen onto its side. One of the Dwarves, an elderly one, cowered with two young females, trying to shield them with his back. A boy, who had probably not yet celebrated his fifteenth nameday, was using all sorts of cutlery to keep the Orcs at bay. Legolas spotted her almost immediately. Her snarls were unique and the whoosh of her daggers was a sound that the prince’s ears were attuned to.  An Orc threw itself at him but Legolas managed to leap off the table he had been couching on and knock the Orc down with the end of his bow. He drew one of his white knives and with perfect accuracy of his wrist, he slit the Orc’s thoughts just as it had risen to its feet.

Tauriel caught a flash of pale blonde in the corner of her eye. She did not need to look at him because she knew he was there. She heard the clang of his knives meet the feeble weapons of the Orcs’, quickly followed by the sound of lifeless bodies hitting the wooden floor. A loud scream came from her left and Tauriel saw an Orc pulling on Kili’s leg, threatening him to fall off the bed. The elleth was lightning fast, flipped a dagger in her right hand and threw it with a yell. It landed in the Orc’s neck and it shrieked as black blood spurted from the wound. Tauriel was not done yet. She grabbed her dagger from the dead Orc, ran around the wall and came back with a double kick to an Orc’s face. Another one just came in the doorway as Tauriel plunged her dagger right in its throat. Its whimpered scream almost brought a smirk to her face.

Legolas used his skills, which he had spent centuries learning, to easily overpower the Orcs. He followed a pattern. Cut an Orc’s throat. Punch another Orc in the face. Move onto the next one. Two Orcs came at him at once so he dropped his bow on the table and drove both of his knives into the Orcs’ necks. As they fell to the floor, Legolas wondered if his father was ever like this, fighting evil whenever it came for him. When his mother had been alive, Thranduil had been the happiest ellon in Middle-Earth. His love for her knew no boundaries. But when she died, that all changed. _Maybe fighting reminds him of what happened to Naneth._ He thought. He could not blame his father. _If anything like that happened to Tauriel, I would be lost._ The sound of an Orc growling brought the prince out of his thoughts and he blocked its attack with his knives, easily dispatching his enemy in a few seconds.

Her hair was like fire around her as Tauriel murdered her fifth Orc. She had never been part of such an easy fight. She spotted another Orc heading for the children and Dwarves, who were now gathered together. Tauriel was fast and swooped in to save them, the blade of her right dagger digging into the Orc’s wrist, stopping it from cutting down the group. She watched as Kili launched himself from his position on the floor and stabbing the Orc in its ribcage with a dagger of his own. The Orc fell to the ground and Tauriel moved out of the way as Kili too collapsed, screaming in agony as he clutched his right leg. Her lips parted in shock and her eyes widened at the pain he was in. Tauriel found it a miracle that he was still alive.

As the red-haired elleth stared at Kili as his fellow Dwarves surrounded him, Legolas finished off the last Orc, both of his white knives burying themselves in its clavicle. The prince moved his leg under the Orc’s and pushed its body off the balcony. Legolas watched as the Orc landed on the edge of a boat on the water. Another Orc on the other side flew up into the air, rising up to where Legolas was. Very easily, he severed its head from its shoulders. The body fell down into the ice-cold black water. Legolas smirked as he let the head fall from his silver blades, landing with a splash below. But the prince discovered there were more Orc. They fled, running over the rooftops and walkways, back to where the bridge was. It was not over. He had a feeling that he did not want a bundle of Orcs wandering through Laketown causing havoc. And he did not want them to flee either. Not when he could have the pleasure of killing them. Legolas turned around and went back into the house, retrieving his bow.

“You killed them all.” The young boy gasped, his eyes wide as he stared around at his home, which was now basically ruined.

“There are others. Tauriel, come.” Legolas barked, walking to the doorway. Tauriel stared at him, her expression full of shock. _No, I cannot leave. I came to save Kili. I cannot leave now._ She heard the elderly Dwarf say that Kili was fading. _No! I have to do something! I came all this way and I cannot go._ The prince could sense that Tauriel did not want to leave. He could not just force her to. Tauriel was not to abide by rules or commands. She had already proved that. He wished he could just grab her arm and drag her out of the house but that was no way to treat a female. Instead, he gave her a stern look which was full of emotion.

“Tauriel.” It was not a statement. It was a plea. That was all he could do so he left. He jumped off the balcony in one agile move. He landed on a small bridge that connected two walkways and he flipped over that, landing quietly in an empty boat. Legolas used his sharp sense of eyesight and hearing to locate the Orcs. It did not take him long.

Tauriel tried to grapple her thoughts. Once again, she found herself torn in a situation. She was in the middle. She had two options: one, stay with Kili and heal him and two, follow Legolas and find out what the Orc were doing here. Tauriel heard the young Dwarf groan but she lowered her eyes and headed towards the doorway. There was another groan from Kili and she looked back at him. He looked so weak. He was not the attractive cheeky Dwarf she had spoken with in the palace dungeons. He needed to be cured. Otherwise, he would die. It was that simple. Her gaze went out into Laketown and she saw the prince jumping up onto a high bridge, firing an arrow at a fleeing Orc before disappearing off the other side in a flash of pale blonde and green. _He would never forgive me if I stayed._ Tauriel thought. Legolas was already envious of Kili. Now, their relationship would get even unhealthier if the elleth stayed behind with a bunch of Dwarves who the Elvenking despised fiercely. _I have travelled all the way here. How can I leave him now?_ Tauriel asked herself as her eyes fell upon the weak Kili. She heard the sound of footsteps coming closer so she quickly sheathed her daggers behind her. She did not want to scare anyone. It turned out it was a fourth Dwarf. He gasped when he saw Tauriel. But it was not the Dwarf himself that surprised Tauriel. It was what he held in his small hands.

“Athelas.” She whispered, grabbing the plant from him and holding it in her hands, moving her fingers over the greenery. Tauriel loved to heal. It was Lady Valpantiel who had taught her to heal people. Saving lives brought happiness to Tauriel, just as much erasing evil from the world. She repeated the word “Athelas” underneath her breath. It was just pure luck that there was Athelas here in a human town. _Where did he find it?_ This was her chance. _Maybe I was always meant to come here._

The Dwarf asked her what she was doing. She looked at him. he looked friendly enough. It was just the shock in his eyes that made her eyes glisten. Clearly, he had not expected to see her. It was the same the other way around. With a look of hope of her fair face, she answered his question.

“I am going to save him.”

 

**

 

He grabbed Orcrist off the wooden pathway and leaned his back against a post, shaking his head a little. He panted, his hair a little messy around his shoulders. Legolas felt something underneath his nose. With curiosity, he touched that spot with his fingers. When he looked at his fingers, he saw a red substance on his fingertips. His lips formed a frown when he realised it was his blood. Not once in his life had he drawn blood in a battle with anyone but a fellow Guard soldier. It infuriated him that it was an Orc that made him bleed.

He stood there alone. The fiery-haired elleth was not by his side. _Tauriel did not follow me._ Legolas wished that she had. He had given her a choice. Legolas had not physically dragged her out of the house. That would have poisoned their relationship further. He rubbed his fingertips together as he heard the padding of paws from a large animal. His eyes turned cold as he looked to his right to see the large Orc he had just fought mounted on a growling Warg, drool dripping from its yellow fangs. Legolas knew the Orc. Bolg was his name. There had been tales of his immorality. His greed for slaughter. But the reason Legolas knew who the Orc was because of its father. The one they called the Pale Orc, astride a white Warg. _If Azog sent his son here, it must be for a reason._ Legolas thought. He needed to know the reason. He did not want to be left hanging on such a crucial matter. In that single moment, he thought of his father and how he would react. But right now, the last thing Legolas wanted to do was to return home. There were more important things at stake.

He watched Bolg disappear behind a house and he snarled himself, making himself run. Legolas followed the Warg, keeping his eyes on it. _I cannot follow him by foot._ Being an Elf, he was agile and strong but there was no way he would be able to keep up with Bolg by running. Fortunately, in his line of sight, Legolas saw a white horse standing in a small enclosure made from planks of food. It did not take the prince long to hop onto the horse (it already had a stable), grab the reins and send the horse into a gallop. Holding Orcrist in his left hand, Legolas galloped across the bridge and out of Laketown, always keeping Bold in his sight.

 

“The poison has turned the flesh rancid.” Tauriel said, examining Kili’s wound. His skin had turned a deep infested red as the blood vessels stood out against his pale skin. The poison was taking effect. When Tauriel put her hands on his leg, Kili screamed. The sound pierced her heart. She had gotten the other Dwarves and the three children to help hold Kili down while she healed him. If he moved, she could make it even worse.

She murmured in Elvish as she rubbed the wet Athelas in between her slender fingers. She placed it on Kili’s open wound and once again, he screamed. The blonde Dwarf kept him down on the table as Tauriel continued to speak the incantation louder.

“ _Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth.  Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth._ ”

In truth, she did not know if it would work. She could be too late. The poison could have done too much damage, so much that it could not be reversed. Tauriel looked up, her eyes breaking through the broken ceiling and up into the night sky where the people of the Valar resided. She begged them. She pleaded for them to save the Dwarf she cared about. She did not pay attention to anyone else in the room. Tauriel rubbed the Athelas into Kili’s wound and she heard his screams turn into groans. _It is working._ She thought as she spoke the incantation again and again. _Diola lle, Valpantiel, for teaching me this spell._ She said in her head. Tauriel looked down at Kili to see that he was staring at her with wide eyes, filled with a shine. _Is he crying?_ She did not care. To cry was to show emotion. It was a natural reaction. Kili stopped moving which made it easier for Tauriel to rub the healing plant further into his poisoned flesh. She sighed as she spoke the incantation one last time. The Dwarf’s dark eyes closed and his head fell back onto the table. His body relaxed and Tauriel felt his leg become still underneath her hands.

“What have you done to my brother?” The blonde Dwarf asked, his tone icy. _Brother?_ Tauriel repeated in her mind. She looked from Kili to the Dwarf with blonde hair. They looked so incredibly different but at the same time, they looked so alike. Kili was obviously younger, his face was more youthful. Tauriel did not despise Dwarves so she respected Kili’s brother by giving him an answer.

“I have healed him. He will wake soon.”

She placed her pale hand over Kili’s wound and pressed hard. The leaves of the Athelas seeped into his flesh and she closed her eyes momentarily, stemming her wish for him to be alright from her mind. Tauriel sighed and turned to look at the two girls. The younger one still held the bowl of water the elleth used to wash the Athelas in while the older man had her arms folded, her facial expression no sort of shocked.

“What are your names?” Tauriel asked.

“Sigrid. This is Tilda.” The older girl said. She looked about sixteen years old, so young to see such violence, especially in her own home. It occurred to Tauriel that these girls and their family were not well-off. They definitely had not seen an Elf before.

“Could you perhaps get me some sort of bandage? Soak it in the water with the Athelas.”

Tauriel did not wait for an answer from the girls. She turned her heel and walked out onto the balcony, taking a deep breath. Her fingers were white as they gripped the wooden railing. Laketown was dark and only a few houses glowed gold from the inside. Dark grey clouds gathered above, blocking out the twinkling stars. The moon’s shadow shone from behind the barrier of the clouds and the cold winter breeze blowed Tauriel’s red hair around her shoulders. She had healed Kili. She had done what she had set out to do. But the one thing she regretted was not following Legolas. Tauriel could leave right now. She could easily go and find him and get rid of the rest of the Orcs together. But something in her head and in her heart told her to remain here. Tauriel did not know what she felt for Kili. _Is it attraction? Is it friendship? Is it romance?_ The latter was a matter she was not familiar with. Once again, she was at war with her heart and her head. Both were pulling at her from different directions. Legolas pulled her one way and Kili pulled her the other. Tauriel was stuck.

She looked out across the town, her eyes like a green fire. The water running through the walkways was pitch-black and it looked freezing cold. Tauriel felt warm in her layers of clothing, her streamlined attire hugging her body. Then, she noticed directly ahead, past the Lake, was the Lonely Mountain, mist swirling around its peak. Then, she wondered why only four Dwarves were in here in Laketown. _The others must have gone forth to the Mountain._ Tauriel thought. It made her shiver that she was so close to where Smaug resided. A dragon, who had slept for years, when awoken would not be a happy one. All of the people who lived in Laketown lived beneath the Mountain’s shadows and under Smaug’s wrath should he ever be disturbed. There was no sound from the Mountain. There was only the whistle of the wind that hit Tauriel’s pointy ears. She looked down at her hands and realised they were shaking, her knuckles turning pure white. Tauriel was scared. She was allowed to be. She clutched her hands to her chest and whispered in Elvish to the Valar above, wishing for their help and their guidance. She hoped they would answer her.

 

**

 

When Tauriel re-entered the house five minutes later, she found that Kili was still lying on the table. His head was balanced on a pillow made of acorns. _It is not the most comfortable of headrests._ But Tauriel accepted the girls had done as much as they could. The three other Dwarves had left Kili’s side and were helping the young boy clean up the mess of cutlery and plates on the floor. She saw the youngest girl ( _Tilda. That is her name_. Tauriel thought.) holding the bowl of water while her sister saturated a thin but sturdy piece of cloth in it, the healing plant swirling through the liquid. _Sigrid._ The elleth walked up to the two female humans and gently took hold of the cloth in her hands. She squeezed the water out of it, letting the drops fall into the bowl.

“Where are your parents?” She asked. It occurred to Tauriel that three young children would not be left alone in their house by themselves by accident. It was late at night and their home had been destroyed. She could not blame the three of them from being traumatised. The two girls shared a glance before the eldest one answered.

“Our Da was supposed to be back a couple of hours ago. We don’t know where he is.”

Tauriel saw worry wash over the girls’ faces. She assumed their mother was not around because they did not mention her. She related herself to them, having lost both of her parents. Tilda and Sigrid had lost their mother at a young age, probably. Tauriel was young when her parents perished. It was a hard thing to go through, especially as a child. She wanted to give them hope so she smiled at the girls.

“I am sure he will return soon.”

Tauriel turned around, her red hair swishing down her back. She stepped up to the table and lifted Kili’s leg, starting to wrap the cloth around his wound. The fabric went round and round and round his leg; Tauriel made sure to keep it tight to seal in the Athelas so it would spread and start to heal the poisoned flesh. The Dwarf’s chest rose and fell each time he took a breath. Tauriel stared at the wall as she tied the final knot of the bandage. _It will have to do._ She thought. _How did my life come to this?_ She had separated herself from both her King and her prince. She had never meant to, it was never her intention to do so. She thought of her second mother, the beloved Queen Eletha. _What would she think of me?_ Eletha had always been more forgiving than her husband but in a situation such as this, Tauriel did not know what the Queen would think. Having a deep attraction to a Dwarf was not known to the Eldar in all their long history. It had never happened before. Tauriel just could not stand to see this young Dwarf, who was so cheeky and full of life, die so quickly. She thought of Legolas and where he was now. _Is he still here in Laketown? Has he killed the Orcs? Has he left and followed them?_ Tauriel remembered the cold look in his eyes when he left the house. Those eyes used to look at her with such adoration and happiness. His eyes had turned into the ones that King Thranduil had. Piercing blue with not a hint of remorse.

“Miss?”

Tilda’s voice brought Tauriel out of her mind and back into reality. The young girl stood on the other side of the table, the bowl of water clutched in her hands.

“My name is Tauriel, _tithen pen_.” She said.

“Do you still need this?” Tilda asked, indicating the bowl with her hand.

“I will take it.” Tauriel said, reaching over and grabbing the bowl with her hands. Her fingers were still stained with Athelas leaves so she quickly moved her hands through the water, her skin becoming perfect and smooth again. Tilda returned to her sister and brother, helping them clean up their home. As Tauriel placed the bowl by one of Kili’s feet, she looked at him and saw that his eyes were half-open, his dark irises just a sliver beneath his eyelids. Tauriel did not say anything and turned away from him, drying her hands with another cloth that lay underneath the table. Then, very weakly, she heard him whisper her name.

Tauriel could not ignore his voice at that moment. She placed the cloth on the table and stared down at Kili. His eyes were open a little more but he still looked frail. It was sad for Tauriel to see him in such a state. It was just a question if she would feel the same way if it was Legolas lying before her.

“Lie still.” She said, the corners of her lips tugging up a little. _At least he is talking. That is a good sign._ But the Athelas was not going to work in just an hour. It would take many more.

“You cannot be her.” Kili murmured. Tauriel sighed and looked away again, her hair falling over her shoulders, covering her face. The Dwarf was not thinking clearly. He was weak and in the middle of recovering from a life-threatening injury. His mind was not working properly. That was what Tauriel told herself.

“She is far away. She...is far, far away from me.” Kili continued his monologue. Tauriel’s eyes looked at the wall again but saw nothing. Her pointed ears pricked up at his words. _He thinks I am a hallucination. He does not think I am really her._ Tauriel was not hurt by what he had said but she felt something pull at her heart. _I am not supposed to feel this way._ It was not the right way for an Elf to respond to a Dwarf’s words. But Tauriel could not control her emotions. It was the reverse with Legolas. She wished she could return his feelings but she somehow could not. Nothing romantic with the prince resonated with her. She knew he would be extremely infuriated if she gave her heart to Dwarf, believing it had belonged to him.

“She walks in starlight in another world.”

Tauriel slowly moved her eyes to his face. Kili looked right at her and even though he was so feeble, his gaze went deep into her soul. _He remembers._ That night down in the dungeons had been a magical one. Tauriel had felt free then. She could tell another race about what she felt for the stars and how important they were to her. At one point, her parents had wanted to call her “Itarille” which meant “Starlight”. But because of her connection with her home, “Tauriel” seemed a better fit. It surprised Tauriel greatly that Kili had remembered that night in the Elven dungeons. Of everything that had happened between then and now, he had engraved that memory in his mind.

“It was just a dream.” He whispered. Tauriel’s lips parted and once again, her eyes saw nothing as she looked down at the table. Sometimes, Tauriel wished this was a dream. This world was too terrible, too dark to live in. But she wanted to save it simply because she loved it. Tauriel was stuck in the middle of a relationship with two males who wanted her attention. Who wanted her to themselves. When Tauriel looked down, she saw Kili’s hand moving closer to hers. Then, very slowly, his fingers weaved with hers, interlocking with each other. Kili’s fingers were more chunky than hers which were thin and slender, perfect for gripping her daggers and shooting arrows from her bow. The question that came out of the Dwarf’s lips made Tauriel gasp inside.

“Do you think she could have loved me?”

The only thing the red-haired elleth could do was stare at Kili, not knowing how to answer him.

 

Elvish Translations

  * Adar – Father
  * Naneth – Mother
  * Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth – What grace has given me, let it pass to him, let him be spared
  * Diola lle – Thank you
  * tithen pen – little one



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped the fight between Bolg and Legolas because it wasn’t necessary to write. The two fights he had with Bolg in the films, in my opinion, didn’t do anything for me because we all know nothing’s going to happen to Legolas because he’s in The Lord of the Rings! However, when Bolg fought Tauriel, I thought there was a chance she could die because she was a created character and we as the audience had no idea if she was going to live or not. Now that’s tension! :P This chapter was inspired by ‘Kingsfoil’ by Howard Shore :) Please leave feedback, my darlings!


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